God's Grandeur - text

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shinning from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then nownot reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
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, not can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest, freshness deep down things;
And thought the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs
Bevause the Holy Ghost over the bent
World roods with warm breast and with ah! Bright wings.

Text přidal roman59

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