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.
To What Serves Mortal Beauty?
Gerard Manley Hopkins
(1)
Poem topics: alone, father, heart, heaven, home, war, world, fresh, dear, sweet, good, chance, face, storm, block, gift, master, warm, nation, feature, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about To What Serves Mortal Beauty? poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Best Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins