The deep down things

Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things [....]

From "God's Grandeur" by Gerard Manley Hopkins. The complete poem may be read at Bartleby.com.