Denis, whose motionable, alert, most vaulting wit
Caps occasion with an intellectual fit.
Yet Arthur is a Bowman: his three-heeled timber ’ll hit
The bald and bóld blínking gold when áll ’s dóne
Right rooting in the bare butt’s wincing navel in the sight of the sun.
. . . . . . . .
Gerard Manley Hopkins
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/denis/
