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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=480845" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Bride</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The book was dull, its pictures <br>As leaden as its lore, <br>But one glad, happy picture <br>Made up for all and more: <br>'Twas that of you, sweet peasant, <br>Beside your grannie's door -- <br>I never stopped so startled <br>Inside a book before. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Just so had I sat spell-bound, <br>Quite still with staring eyes, <br>If some great shiny hoopoe <br>Or moth of song-bird size <br>Had drifted to my window <br>And trailed its fineries -- <br>Just so had I been startled, <br>Spelled with the same surprise. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">It pictured you when springtime <br>In part had given place <br>But not surrendered wholly <br>To summer in your face; <br>When still your slender body <br>Was all a childish grace <br>Though woman's richest glories <br>Were building there apace. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Twas blissful so to see you, <br>Yet not without a sigh <br>I dwelt upon the people <br>Who saw you not as I, <br>But in your living sweetness, <br>Beneath your native sky; <br>Ah, bliss to be the people <br>When you went tripping by! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I sat there, thinking, wondering, <br>Abut your life and home, <br>The happy days behind you, <br>The happy days to come, <br>Your grannie in her corner, <br>Upstairs the little room <br>Where you wake up each morning <br>To dream all day -- of Whom? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">That ring upon your finger, <br>Who gave you that to wear? <br>What blushing smith or farm lad <br>Came stammering at your ear <br>A million-time-told story <br>No maid but burns to hear, <br>And went about his labours <br>Delighting in his dear! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I thought of you sweet lovers, <br>The things you say and do, <br>The pouts and tears and partings <br>And swearings to be true, <br>The kissings in the barley -- <br>You brazens, both of you! <br>I nearly burst out crying <br>With thinking of you two. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">It put me in a frenzy <br>Of pleasure nearly pain, <br>A host of blurry faces <br>'Gan shaping in my brain, <br>I shut my eyes to see them <br>Come forward clear and plain, <br>I saw them come full flower, <br>And blur and fade again. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">One moment so I saw them, <br>One sovereign moment so, <br>A host of girlish faces <br>All happy and aglow <br>With Life and Love it dealt them <br>Before it laid them low <br>A hundred years, a thousand, <br>Ten thousand years ago. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">One moment so I saw them <br>Come back with time full tide, <br>The host of girls, your grannies, <br>Who lived and loved and died <br>To give your mouth its beauty, <br>Your soul its gentle pride, <br>Who wrestled with the ages <br>To give the world a bride.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ralph+Hodgson">Ralph Hodgson</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=480845" data-title="The Bride de Ralph Hodgson" data-description="The book was dull, its pictures 
As leaden as its lore, 
But one glad, happy picture 
Made up for all and more: 
'Twas that of you, sweet peasant, 
Beside your grannie's door -- 
I never stopped so startled 
Inside a book before. 

Just so had I s..."></div>
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