Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–89). Poems. 1918.

43. Harry Ploughman

HARD as hurdle arms, with a broth of goldish flue

Breathed round; the rack of ribs; the scooped flank; lank

Rope-over thigh; knee-nave; and barrelled shank—

Head and foot, shoulder and shank—

By a grey eye’s heed steered well, one crew, fall to;

Stand at stress. Each limb’s barrowy brawn, his thew

That onewhere curded, onewhere sucked or sank—

Soared or sank—,

Though as a beechbole firm, finds his, as at a roll-call, rank

And features, in flesh, what deed he each must do—

His sinew-service where do.

He leans to it, Harry bends, look. Back, elbow, and liquid waist

In him, all quail to the wallowing o’ the plough: ’s cheek crimsons; curls

Wag or crossbridle, in a wind lifted, windlaced—

See his wind- lilylocks -laced;

Churlsgrace, too, child of Amansstrength, how it hangs or hurls

Them—broad in bluff hide his frowning feet lashed! raced

With, along them, cragiron under and cold furls—

With-a-fountain’s shining-shot furls.