Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE ANGEL IN THE HOUSE: BOOK 1. CANTO 1. THE CATHEDRAL CLOSE, by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Once more I came to sarum close Last Line: Traditions of civility. Variant Title(s): Salisbury: The Cathedral Close Subject(s): Home | ||||||||
1 Once more I came to Sarum Close, With joy half memory, half desire, And breathed the sunny wind that rose And blew the shadows o'er the Spire, And toss'd the lilac's scented plumes, And sway'd the chestnut's thousand cones, And fill'd my nostrils with perfumes, And shaped the clouds in waifs and zones, And wafted down the serious strain Of Sarum bells, when, true to time, I reach'd the Dean's, with heart and brain That trembled to the trembling chime. 2 'Twas half my home, six years ago. The six years had not alter'd it: Red-brick and ashlar, long and low, With dormers and with oriels lit. Geranium, lychnis, rose array'd The windows, all wide open thrown; And some one in the Study play'd The Wedding-March of Mendelssohn. And there it was I last took leave: 'Twas Christmas: I remember'd now The cruel girls, who feign'd to grieve, Took down the evergreens; and how The holly into blazes woke The fire, lighting the large, low room, A dim, rich lustre of old oak And crimson velvet's glowing gloom. 3 No change had touch'd Dean Churchill: kind, By widowhood more than winters bent, And settled in a cheerful mind, As still forecasting heaven's content. Well might his thoughts be fix'd on high, Now she was there! Within her face Humility and dignity Were met in a most sweet embrace. She seem'd expressly sent below To teach our erring minds to see The rhythmic change of time's swift flow As part of still eternity. Her life, all honour, observed, with awe Which cross experience could not mar, The fiction of the Christian law That all men honourable are; And so her smile at once conferr'd High flattery and benign reproof; And I, a rude boy, strangely stirr'd, Grew courtly in my own behoof. The years, so far from doing her wrong, Anointed her with gracious balm, And made her brows more and more young With wreaths of amaranth and palm. 4 Was this her eldest, Honor; prude, Who would not let me pull the swing; Who, kiss'd at Christmas, call'd me rude, And, sobbing low, refused to sing? How changed! In shape no slender Grace, But Venus; milder than the dove; Her mother's air; her Norman face; Her large sweet eyes, clear lakes of love. Mary I knew. In former time Ailing and pale, she thought that bliss Was only for a better clime, And, heavenly overmuch, scorn'd this. I, rash with theories of the right, Which stretch'd the tether of my Creed, But did not break it, held delight Half discipline. We disagreed. She told the Dean I wanted grace. Now she was kindest of the three, And soft wild roses deck'd her face. And, what, was this my Mildred, she To herself and all a sweet surprise? My Pet, who romp'd and roll'd a hoop? I wonder'd where those daisy eyes Had found their touching curve and droop. 5 Unmannerly times! But now we sat Stranger than strangers; till I caught And answer'd Mildred's smile; and that Spread to the rest, and freedom brought. The Dean talk'd little, looking on, Of three such daughters justly vain. What letters they had had from Bonn, Said Mildred, and what plums from Spain! By Honor I was kindly task'd To excuse my never coming down From Cambridge; Mary smiled and ask'd Were Kant and Goethe yet outgrown? And, pleased, we talk'd the old days o'er; And, parting, I for pleasure sigh'd. To be there as a friend, (since more), Seem'd then, seems still, excuse for pride; For something that abode endued With temple-like repose, an air Of life's kind purposes pursued With order'd freedom sweet and fair. A tent pitch'd in a world not right It seem'd, whose inmates, every one, On tranquil faces bore the light Of duties beautifully done, And humbly, though they had few peers, Kept their own laws, which seem'd to be The fair sum of six thousand years' Traditions of civility. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EL FLORIDA ROOM by RICHARD BLANCO DESTINATIONS by JOSEPHINE JACOBSEN TO THIS HOUSE by ROBINSON JEFFERS THE UPSTAIRS ROOM by WELDON KEES HOME IS SO SAD by PHILIP LARKIN DUTCH INTERIOR by DAVID LEHMAN A LONDON FETE by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE |
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