|Elected Silence, sing to me
And beat upon my whorlèd ear,
Pipe me to pastures still and be
The music that I care to hear.
Shape nothing, lips; be lovely-dumb:
Be shellèd, eyes, with double dark
Palate, the hutch of tasty lust,
Nostrils, your careless breath that spend
O feel-of-primrose hands, O feet
And, Poverty, be thou the bride
— Gerard Manley Hopkins
What a lovely reminder of the beauty of the Lord which can come to us through our various senses, if only we fast from our usual sensual gluttony and open ourselves to the pure experience of Him.