Page:Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins, 1918.djvu/94

And turns to wash it from her welling eyes
And breathes the blots off all with sighs on sighs.
Her glass is blest but she as good as blind
Holds till hand aches and wonders what is there;
Her glass drinks light, she darkles down behind,
All of her glorious gainings unaware. .⁠.⁠.⁠.⁠.⁠.⁠.⁠. I told you that she turned her mirror dim
Betweenwhiles, but she sees herself not Him. .⁠.⁠.⁠.⁠.⁠.⁠.

58 St. Winifred's Well Act I. Sc. 1
Enter Teryth from riding, Winefred following.
T.	What is it, Gwen, my girl? why do you hover and haunt me?
W.	You came by Caerwys, sir?
T.	⁠I came by Caerwys.
W.	⁠There Some messenger there might have met you from my uncle.
T.	Your uncle met the messenger—met me; and this the message: Lord Beuno comes to-night.
W.	⁠To-night, sir!
T.	⁠Soon, now: therefore Have all things ready in his room.
W.	⁠There needs but little doing.
T.	Let what there needs be done. Stay! with him one companion, His deacon, Dirvan Warm: twice over must the welcome be,