anonymous
  • anonymous
Which phrase best expresses the theme of this sonnet the mundaneness of human life contrasted with the divinity of nature devotion to a loved one despite opposition from the world appreciation of the beauty and blissful nature of the seasons the innocence of childhood contrasted with the corruption of adulthood God's Grandeur by Gerard Manley Hopkins The world is charged with the grandeur of God. It will flame out,like shining from shook foil; It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil Crushed.Why do men then now not reck his rod? Generations have trod,have trod,have
English
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SOLVED
At vero eos et accusamus et iusto odio dignissimos ducimus qui blanditiis praesentium voluptatum deleniti atque corrupti quos dolores et quas molestias excepturi sint occaecati cupiditate non provident, similique sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollitia animi, id est laborum et dolorum fuga. Et harum quidem rerum facilis est et expedita distinctio. Nam libero tempore, cum soluta nobis est eligendi optio cumque nihil impedit quo minus id quod maxime placeat facere possimus, omnis voluptas assumenda est, omnis dolor repellendus. Itaque earum rerum hic tenetur a sapiente delectus, ut aut reiciendis voluptatibus maiores alias consequatur aut perferendis doloribus asperiores repellat.
chestercat
  • chestercat
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anonymous
  • anonymous
Which phrase best expresses the theme of this sonnet? the mundaneness of human life contrasted with the divinity of nature devotion to a loved one despite opposition from the world appreciation of the beauty and blissful nature of the seasons the innocence of childhood contrasted with the corruption of adulthood Done God's Grandeur by Gerard Manley Hopkins The world is charged with the grandeur of God. It will flame out, like shining from shook foil; It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil Crushed. Why do men then now not 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, nor can foot feel, being shod. And for all this, nature is never spent; There lives the dearest freshness deep down things; And though the last lights off the black West went Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs — Because the Holy Ghost over the bent World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

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