The world is charged with the grandeur of God. It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod? Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
[5]
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil; And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent; There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
[10]
And though the last lights off the black West went Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs – Because the Holy Ghost over the bent World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
GLOSSARY [Title] Grandeur: splendour
[2] foil: metal that has been hammered into a
[4] reck his rod: heed his authority [6] seared: burned [6] bleared: dimmed [6] smeared: covered with dirt [8] shod: wearing shoes
[13] Holy Ghost: Holy Spirit (God) [13] bent: curved (because the Earth is spherical)