He fathers forth, whose beauty past change
Who made pied beauty in shade and light.
His beauty consumes us in our transience.
His pied flute leads us away in finger holes.
All God’s cows are piebald under the hill,
He holds up against heaven god’s rain ire.
He would hold girls’ eyes captive – closed.
His flute is pied beauty on the river bank.
(Taking off on the poem Pied Beauty by Gerard Manley Hopkin