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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=359159" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto VI.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Preludes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I Perfect Love rare <br>Most rare is still most noble found,<br>Most noble still most incomplete;<br>Sad law, which leaves King Love uncrown'd<br>In this obscure, terrestrial seat!<br>With bale more sweet than others' bliss,<br>And bliss more wise than others' bale,<br>The secrets of the world are his.<br>And freedom without let or pale.<br>O, zealous good, O, virtuous glee,<br>Religious, and without alloy,<br>O, privilege high, which none but he<br>Who highly merits can enjoy;<br>O, Love, who art that fabled sun<br>Which all the world with bounty loads,<br>Without respect of realms, save one,<br>And gilds with double lustre Rhodes;<br>A day of whose delicious life,<br>Though full of terrors, full of tears,<br>Is better than of other life<br>A hundred thousand million years; <br>Thy heavenly splendour magnifies<br>The least commixture of earth's mould,<br>Cheapens thyself in thine own eyes,<br>And makes the foolish mocker bold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II Love Justified <br>What if my pole-star of respect<br>Be dim to others? Shall their ‘Nay,’<br>Presumably their own defect,<br>Invalidate my heart's strong ‘Yea’?<br>And can they rightly me condemn,<br>If I, with partial love, prefer?<br>I am not more unjust to them,<br>But only not unjust to her.<br>Leave us alone! After awhile,<br>This pool of private charity<br>Shall make its continent an isle,<br>And roll, a world-embracing sea;<br>This foolish zeal of lip for lip,<br>This fond, self-sanction'd, wilful zest,<br>Is that elect relationship<br>Which forms and sanctions all the rest;<br>This little germ of nuptial love,<br>Which springs so simply from the sod,<br>The root is, as my song shall prove,<br>Of all our love to man and God.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III Love Serviceable <br>What measure Fate to him shall mete<br>Is not the noble Lover's care;<br>He's heart-sick with a longing sweet<br>To make her happy as she's fair. <br>Oh, misery, should she him refuse,<br>And so her dearest good mistake!<br>His own success he thus pursues<br>With frantic zeal for her sole sake.<br>To lose her were his life to blight,<br>Being loss to hers; to make her his,<br>Except as helping her delight,<br>He calls but accidental bliss;<br>And, holding life as so much pelf<br>To buy her posies, learns this lore:<br>He does not rightly love himself<br>Who does not love another more.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV A Riddle Solved <br>Kind souls, you wonder why, love you,<br>When you, you wonder why, love none.<br>We love, Fool, for the good we do,<br>Not that which unto us is done!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>The Dean.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I<br>The Ladies rose. I held the door,<br>And sigh'd, as her departing grace<br>Assured me that she always wore<br>A heart as happy as her face;<br>And, jealous of the winds that blew,<br>I dreaded, o'er the tasteless wine,<br>What fortune momently might do<br>To hurt the hope that she'd be mine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>II<br>Towards my mark the Dean's talk set:<br>He praised my ‘Notes on Abury,’<br>Read when the Association met<br>At Sarum; he was pleased to see<br>I had not stopp'd, as some men had,<br>At Wrangler and Prize Poet; last,<br>He hoped the business was not bad<br>I came about: then the wine pass'd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III<br>A full glass prefaced my reply:<br>I loved his daughter, Honor; I told<br>My estate and prospects; might I try<br>To win her? At my words so bold<br>My sick heart sank. Then he: He gave<br>His glad consent, if I could get<br>Her love. A dear, good Girl! she'd have<br>Only three thousand pounds as yet;<br>More bye and bye. Yes, his good will<br>Should go with me; he would not stir;<br>He and my father in old time still<br>Wish'd I should one day marry her;<br>But God so seldom lets us take<br>Our chosen pathway, when it lies<br>In steps that either mar or make<br>Or alter others' destinies,<br>That, though his blessing and his pray'r<br>Had help'd, should help, my suit, yet he<br>Left all to me, his passive share<br>Consent and opportunity.<br>My chance, he hoped, was good: I'd won<br>Some name already; friends and place<br>Appear'd within my reach, but none<br>Her mind and manners would not grace. <br>Girls love to see the men in whom<br>They invest their vanities admired;<br>Besides, where goodness is, there room<br>For good to work will be desired.<br>'Twas so with one now pass'd away;<br>And what she was at twenty-two,<br>Honor was now; and he might say<br>Mine was a choice I could not rue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV<br>He ceased, and gave his hand. He had won<br>(And all my heart was in my word),<br>From me the affection of a son,<br>Whichever fortune Heaven conferr'd!<br>Well, well, would I take more wine? Then go<br>To her; she makes tea on the lawn<br>These fine warm afternoons. And so<br>We went whither my soul was drawn;<br>And her light-hearted ignorance<br>Of interest in our discourse<br>Fill'd me with love, and seem'd to enhance<br>Her beauty with pathetic force,<br>As, through the flowery mazes sweet,<br>Fronting the wind that flutter'd blythe,<br>And loved her shape, and kiss'd her feet,<br>Shown to their insteps proud and lithe,<br>She approach'd, all mildness and young trust,<br>And ever her chaste and noble air<br>Gave to love's feast its choicest gust,<br>A vague, faint augury of despair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Coventry+Patmore">Coventry Patmore</a><div class=q>
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I Perfect Love rare 
Most rare is still most noble found,
Most noble still most incomplete;
Sad law, which leaves King Love uncrown'd
In this obscure, terrestrial seat!
With bale more sweet than others' bliss,
And bliss more wise than o..."></div>
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