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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341711" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>O true and tried</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">O true and tried, so well and long, <br>Demand not thou a marriage lay; <br>In that it is thy marriage day <br>Is music more than any song.<br>Nor have I felt so much of bliss <br>Since first he told me that he loved <br>A daughter of our house; nor proved <br>Since that dark day a day like this; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tho’ I since then have number’d o’er <br>Some thrice three years: they went and came, <br>Remade the blood and changed the frame, <br>And yet is love not less, but more; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">No longer caring to embalm <br>In dying songs a dead regret, <br>But like a statue solid-set, <br>And moulded in colossal calm.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Regret is dead, but love is more <br>Than in the summers that are flown, <br>For I myself with these have grown <br>To something greater than before; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Which makes appear the songs I made <br>As echoes out of weaker times, <br>As half but idle brawling rhymes, <br>The sport of random sun and shade.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But where is she, the bridal flower, <br>That must he made a wife ere noon? <br>She enters, glowing like the moon <br>Of Eden on its bridal bower:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On me she bends her blissful eyes <br>And then on thee; they meet thy look <br>And brighten like the star that shook <br>Betwixt the palms of paradise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O when her life was yet in bud, <br>He too foretold the perfect rose. <br>For thee she grew, for thee she grows <br>For ever, and as fair as good.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And thou art worthy; full of power; <br>As gentle; liberal-minded, great, <br>Consistent; wearing all that weight <br>Of learning lightly like a flower.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But now set out: the noon is near, <br>And I must give away the bride; <br>She fears not, or with thee beside <br>And me behind her, will not fear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For I that danced her on my knee, <br>That watch’d her on her nurse’s arm, <br>That shielded all her life from harm <br>At last must part with her to thee;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now waiting to be made a wife, <br>Her feet, my darling, on the dead; <br>Their pensive tablets round her head, <br>And the most living words of life</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Breathed in her ear. The ring is on, <br>The ‘wilt thou’ answer’d, and again <br>The ‘wilt thou’ ask’d, till out of twain <br>Her sweet ‘I will’ has made you one.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now sign your names, which shall be read, <br>Mute symbols of a joyful morn, <br>By village eyes as yet unborn; <br>The names are sign’d, and overhead</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Begins the clash and clang that tells <br>The joy to every wandering breeze;<br>The blind wall rocks, and on the trees <br>The dead leaf trembles to the bells.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O happy hour, and happier hours <br>Await them. Many a merry face <br>Salutes them–maidens of the place, <br>That pelt us in the porch with flowers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O happy hour, behold the bride <br>With him to whom her hand I gave. <br>They leave the porch, they pass the grave <br>That has to-day its sunny side. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">To-day the grave is bright for me, <br>For them the light of life increased, <br>Who stay to share the morning feast, <br>Who rest to-night beside the sea. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let all my genial spirits advance <br>To meet and greet a whiter sun; <br>My drooping memory will not shun <br>The foaming grape of eastern France.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It circles round, and fancy plays, <br>And hearts are warm’d and faces bloom, <br>As drinking health to bride and groom <br>We wish them store of happy days. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nor count me all to blame if I <br>Conjecture of a stiller guest, <br>Perchance, perchance, among the rest, <br>And, tho’ in silence, wishing joy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But they must go, the time draws on, <br>And those white-favour’d horses wait; <br>They rise, but linger; it is late; <br>Farewell, we kiss, and they are gone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A shade falls on us like the dark <br>From little cloudlets on the grass, <br>But sweeps away as out we pass <br>To range the woods, to roam the park,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Discussing how their courtship grew, <br>And talk of others that are wed, <br>And how she look’d, and what he said, <br>And back we come at fall of dew. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Again the feast, the speech, the glee, <br>The shade of passing thought, the wealth <br>Of words and wit, the double health, <br>The crowning cup, the three-times-three,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And last the dance;–till I retire: <br>Dumb is that tower which spake so loud, <br>And high in heaven the streaming cloud, <br>And on the downs a rising fire:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And rise, O moon, from yonder down, <br>Till over down and over dale <br>All night the shining vapour sail <br>And pass the silent-lighted town,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The white-faced halls, the glancing rills, <br>And catch at every mountain head, <br>And o’er the friths that branch and spread <br>Their sleeping silver thro’ the hills;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And touch with shade the bridal doors, <br>With tender gloom the roof, the wall; <br>And breaking let the splendour fall <br>To spangle all the happy shores </div><div style="margin:10px 0">By which they rest, and ocean sounds, <br>And, star and system rolling past, <br>A soul shall draw from out the vast <br>And strike his being into bounds,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And, moved thro’ life of lower phase, <br>Result in man, be born and think, <br>And act and love, a closer link <br>Betwixt us and the crowning race</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of those that, eye to eye, shall look <br>On knowledge; under whose command <br>Is Earth and Earth’s, and in their hand <br>Is Nature like an open book; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">No longer half-akin to brute, <br>For all we thought and loved and did, <br>And hoped, and suffer’d, is but seed <br>Of what in them is flower and fruit;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whereof the man, that with me trod <br>This planet, was a noble type <br>Appearing ere the times were ripe, <br>That friend of mine who lives in God,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That God, which ever lives and loves, <br>One God, one law, one element, <br>And one far-off divine event, <br>To which the whole creation moves.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Alfred+Lord+Tennyson">Alfred Lord Tennyson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341711" data-title="O true and tried de Alfred Lord Tennyson" data-description="O true and tried, so well and long, 
Demand not thou a marriage lay; 
In that it is thy marriage day 
Is music more than any song.
Nor have I felt so much of bliss 
Since first he told me that he loved 
A daughter of our house; nor proved 
Since t..."></div>
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