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.