For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
I had heard this poem before, but it stumbled my way again at Rubber Repertory's Pilot Balloon Church-House, where it serves as their daily prayer. Many thanks to Josh and Matt for their hospitality! It's been a wonderful week in Kansas.