Morning’s Minion, Daylight’s Dauphin

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Gerard Manley Hopkins’s “The Windhover” opens with the lines “I caught this morning morning’s minion, king- /dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon in his riding” (1-2). I initially read “minion” as someone who is under the command of some greater (evil) authority, but Norton defines the word as “darling, favorite” (1222). The falcon is the morning’s beloved and the daylight’s prince. In these two lines, enjambment occurs mid-word; the bird initially seems to be a king, before we learn that he is merely an heir, or a “dauphin” to daylight’s domain. 

Despite his small size, he braves strong wind and does so joyfully: “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” (5-7). He does not cower from danger, but gleefully takes challenge as an opportunity; this sense of optimism rings true considering the fact that the falcon is a darling of the morning. Every morning represents a new beginning, without pre-existing judgment over what might happen. The falcon doesn’t limit himself by his size, but wholeheartedly believes in his potential to succeed. 

The falcon seems to establish his dominion in the sky, untouchable in the open air, but by the end of the poem, this strength begins to falter, or “Buckle! And the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion / Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier” (10-12). Norton references multiple interpretations of “buckle,” but I read this poem’s use as implying some failure amidst great pressure. The falcon drops from the sky towards almost certain death, but his fiery descent inspires awe. He is a “chevalier,” noble and true to the end. Hopkins dedicated the poem “To Christ Our Lord;” the comparison between the falcon and Christ places heavy emphasis on this theme of sacrifice, with both dying for some presumed greater good. The final lines offer a sense that the falcon finds glory even as his reign in the sky comes to an end: “Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear / Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion” (13-14). The “blue-bleak embers” create a contrast with the initial bright morning, suggesting that dark night has come to quell the day’s command. The fire once within the falcon has faded to embers, but still “gash gold-vermilion.”  The bird’s spirit remains brilliant, even after his mortal body has disappeared.

One thought on “Morning’s Minion, Daylight’s Dauphin

  1. This is a lovely reading of a poem that I like a lot (it being a bird poem and all). It hadn’t occurred to me to think of the buckle of the bird as a failure, but that’s certainly plausible and adds more complexity to an already pretty complex metaphor (windhover as metaphor for Christ). What the bird is literally doing is breaking the hover in order to dive down to catch his prey (mouse, probably). The nearly certain death is that of his prey, but buckle does imply failure or breakage. And this doubleness is central to the meaning of Christ–as someone who has to die miserably for something spectacular to happen.

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