Daily Dose

From The Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins, edited by Robert Bridges

TO WHAT SERVES MORTAL BEAUTY?

To what serves mortal beauty ' —dangerous; does set danc- 
ing blood—the O-seal-that-so ' feature, flung prouder form 
Than Purcell tune lets tread to? ' See: it does this: keeps warm 
Men’s wits to the things that are; ' what good means—where a glance
Master more may than gaze, ' gaze out of countenance.
Those lovely lads once, wet-fresh ' windfalls of war’s storm, 
How then should Gregory, a father, ' have gleanèd else from swarm-
ed Rome? But God to a nation ' dealt that day’s dear chance. 
To man, that needs would worship ' block or barren stone, 
Our law says: Love what are ' love’s worthiest, were all known;
World’s loveliest—men’s selves. Self ' flashes off frame and face. 
What do then? how meet beauty? ' Merely meet it; own, 
Home at heart, heaven’s sweet gift; ' then leave, let that alone. 
Yea, wish that though, wish all, ' God’s better beauty, grace.