Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–89). Poems. 1918.
5. Penmaen Pool
For the Visitors’ Book at the InnW
Away from counter, court, or school
O where live well your lease of leisure
But here at, here at Penmaen Pool?
Each sport has here its tackle and tool:
Come, plant the staff by Cadair cliff;
Come, swing the sculls on Penmaen Pool.
The triple-hummocked Giant’s stool,
Hoar messmate, hobs and nobs with him
To halve the bowl of Penmaen Pool.
At tranquil turns, by nature’s rule,
Rides repeated topsyturvy
In frank, in fairy Penmaen Pool.
And sheep-flock clouds like worlds of wool,
For all they shine so, high in heaven,
Shew brighter shaken in Penmaen Pool.
If floodtide teeming thrills her full,
And mazy sands all water-wattled
Waylay her at ebb, past Penmaen Pool.
When grey showers gather and gusts are cool?—
Why, raindrop-roundels looped together
That lace the face of Penmaen Pool.
Of New Year’s month or surly Yule
Furred snows, charged tuft above tuft, tower
From darksome darksome Penmaen Pool.
You’ve parlour-pastime left and (who’ll
Not honour it?) ale like goldy foam
That frocks an oar in Penmaen Pool.
Away from counter, court, or school,
Spend here your measure of time and treasure
And taste the treats of Penmaen Pool.