This is one of my favorites from one of my favorite poets, and one which really fits today. (Yes, I’m in a better mood this evening than I was yesterday evening—why do you ask?) Unfortunately, if there’s a way to get the proper formatting through this site, it’s beyond me, so apologies for the squared-off stanzas. EDIT: New site, different problems; the formatting isn’t one of them now.
Pied Beauty
Glory be to God for dappled things –
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:
Praise him.
—Gerard Manley Hopkins, 1877