<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=374175" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Husband Of To-Day</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">EYES caught by beauty, fancy by eyes caught; <br>Sweet possibilities, question, and wonder-- <br>What did her smile say? What has her brain thought? <br>Her standard, what? Am I o'er it or under? <br>Flutter in meeting--in absence dreaming; <br>Tremor in greeting--for meeting scheming; <br>Caught by the senses, and yet all through <br>True with the heart of me, sweetheart, to you. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Only the brute in me yields to the pressure <br>Of longings inherent--of vices acquired; <br>All this, my darling, is folly--not pleasure, <br>Only my fancy--not soul--has been fired. <br>Sense thrills exalted, thrills to love-madness; <br>Fancy grown sad becomes almost love-sadness; <br>And yet love has with it nothing to do, <br>Love is fast fettered, sweetheart, to you. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Lacking fresh fancies, time flags--grows wingless; <br>Life without folly would fail--fall flat; <br>But the love that lights life, and makes death's self stingless-- <br>You, and you only, have wakened that. <br>Sweet are all women, you are the best of them; <br>You are so dear because dear are the rest of them; <br>After each fancy has sprung, grown, and died, <br>Back I come ever, dear, to your side. <br>The strongest of passions--in joy--seeks the new, <br>But in grief I turn ever, sweetheart, to you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edith+Nesbit">Edith Nesbit</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=374175" data-title="The Husband Of To-Day de Edith Nesbit" data-description="EYES caught by beauty, fancy by eyes caught; Sweet possibilities, question, and wonder-- What did her smile say? What has her brain thought? Her standard, what? Am I o'er it or under? Flutter in meeting--in absence dreaming; Tremor in greetin..."></div> </div> </div>

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