I Wake and Feel the Fell of Dark
Waking in the dark to hours that belong to no day, the speaker counts over what he has already lain awake through and knows there is more of it to come before any light. His cries go out like dead letters to someone dear who lives away, and the taste in his mouth turns out to be himself — gall, heartburn, a decree tasting bitter because the bone and blood and flesh doing the tasting are what the curse is made of. Another of the 1885 Dublin sonnets, written while Hopkins was grinding through examination papers for the Royal University of Ireland.
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- companion to ↑ Carrion Comfort
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Closest analogues
- 93% · 15 shared
- 65% · 9 shared
- 64% · 11 shared
- 64% · 11 shared
- 64% · 8 shared
- 62% · 10 shared