Hopkins, for me, captures painfully well the man with the mind that will not, just will not, stop processing painful thoughts. And gives good advice: call them off to somewhere else, so that God may have space to grow comfort and joy.
| MY own heart let me have more have pity on; let | |
| Me live to my sad self hereafter kind, | |
| Charitable; not live this tormented mind | |
| With this tormented mind tormenting yet. | |
| I cast for comfort I can no more get |
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| By groping round my comfortless, than blind | |
| Eyes in their dark can day or thirst can find | |
| Thirst ’s all-in-all in all a world of wet. | |
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| Soul, self; come, poor Jackself, I do advise | |
| You, jaded, let be; call off thoughts awhile | |
| Elsewhere; leave comfort root-room; let joy size | |
| At God knows when to God knows what; whose smile | |
| ’s not wrung, see you; unforeseen times rather—as skies | |
| Betweenpie mountains—lights a lovely mile. |
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