R.I.P. Harry Frankfurt; July’s poem

The outstanding philosopher Harry G. Frankfurt has died. He’s one of just a few philosophers of my lifetime whom I would unreservedly recommend to the general reader.

Here are his two most important books – collections of short- and medium-length essays. “Jewel-like,” these pieces often are said to be. I spent a lot of time reading and discussing these books during my fifth semester of grad school.

See also this book about Frankfurt. But read the two other books first!

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

This month’s poem is “The Windhover” by Gerard Manley Hopkins.

To Christ our Lord

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
I caught this morning morning’s minion, king-
dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, – the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯