Now here is a poem! This has to be the best long poem in English since Eliot's Four Quartets (William Logan says so too).
I read it twice today. Would have been happy to read it three or four more times. It was gratifying to see how many of the French references I knew – and frankly exhilarating to read a long poem of such power and beauty. Hill is a notoriously "difficult" poet, which is true, I guess, but I think you can enjoy this without fishing for all the references. His notes and short bio of Péguy at the end fill in a lot of the blanks, so I recommend reading it through once without worrying about what you miss, then read his notes/bio and look things up before rereading.
Thank you to the late Geoffrey Hill for this amazing poem and for teaching me a new word: contumely (ˈkäntyo͝omlē, noun, insolent or insulting language or treatment).
Well OK I won't claim I understood very much of this or that I consider C Péguy a towering figure worthy of such a tribute, but the verse is quite soberly iambic and the sorta-rhyme schemes neatly maintained, so this is clearly very accomplished pomeing.