To What Serves Mortal Beauty?
To what serves mortal beauty '—dangerous; does set danc-ing blood—the O-seal-that-so ' feature, flung prouder formThan Purcell tune lets tread to? ' See: it does this: keeps warmMen's wits to the things that are; ' what good means—where a glanceMaster 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.
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