Poem: “Thou Art Indeed Just, Lord” by Gerard Manley Hopkins, S.J.

Thou are indeed just, Lord, if I contend With thee; 

but, sir, so what I plead is just. Why do sinners’ ways prosper? 

and why must Disappointment all I endeavor end? 

Wert thou my enemy, O thou my friend, 

How wouldst thou worse, I wonder, than thou dost 

Defeat, thwart me? Oh, the sots and thralls of lust 

Do in spare hours more thrive than I that spend, 

Sir, life upon thy cause. See, banks and brakes 

Now, leaved how thick! laced they are again 

With fretty chervil, look, and fresh wind shakes 

Them; birds build – but not I build; no, but strain, 

Time’s eunuch, and not breed one work that wakes. 

Mine, O thou lord of life, send my roots rain.