The times are nightfall, look, their light grows less; <br />The times are winter, watch, a world undone: <br />They waste, they wither worse; they as they run <br />Or bring more or more blazon man’s distress. <br />And I not help. Nor word now of success: <br />All is from wreck, here, there, to rescue one— <br />Work which to see scarce so much as begun <br />Makes welcome death, does dear forgetfulness. <br /> <br />Or what is else? There is your world within. <br />There rid the dragons, root out there the sin. <br />Your will is law in that small commonweal…<br /><br />Gerard Manley Hopkins<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-times-are-nightfall/
