Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE ANGEL IN THE HOUSE: BOOK 2. CANTO 7. THE REVULSION, by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Twas when the spousal time of may Last Line: Which lay so heavy on my heart. Subject(s): Spring | ||||||||
1 'Twas when the spousal time of May Hangs all the hedge with bridal wreaths, And air's so sweet the bosom gay Gives thanks for every breath it breathes; When like to like is gladly moved, And each thing joins in Spring's refrain, 'Let those love now who never loved; 'Let those who have loved love again;' That I, in whom the sweet time wrought, Lay stretch'd within a lonely glade, Abandon'd to delicious thought, Beneath the softly twinkling shade. The leaves, all stirring, mimick'd well A neighbouring rush of rivers cold, And, as the sun or shadow fell, So these were green and those were gold; In dim recesses hyacinths droop'd, And breadths of primrose lit the air, Which, wandering through the woodland, stoop'd And gather'd perfumes here and there; Upon the spray the squirrel swung, And careless songsters, six or seven, Sang lofty songs the leaves among, Fit for their only listener, Heaven. I sigh'd, 'Immeasurable bliss 'Gains nothing by becoming more! 'Millions have meaning; after this 'Cyphers forget the integer.' 2 And so I mused, till musing brought A dream that shook my house of clay, And, in my humbled heart, I thought, To me there yet may come a day With this the single vestige seen Of comfort, earthly or divine, My sorrow some time must have been Her portion, had it not been mine. Then I, who knew, from watching life, That blows foreseen are slow to fall, Rehearsed the losing of a wife, And faced its terrors each and all. The self-chastising fancy show'd The coffin with its ghastly breath; The innocent sweet face that owed None of its innocence to death; The lips that used to laugh; the knell That bade the world beware of mirth; The heartless and intolerable Indignity of 'earth to earth;' At morn remembering by degrees That she I dream'd about was dead; Love's still recurrent jubilees, The days that she was born, won, wed; The duties of my life the same, Their meaning for the feelings gone; Friendship impertinent, and fame Disgusting; and, more harrowing none, Small household troubles fall'n to me, As, 'What time would I dine to-day?' And, oh, how could I bear to see The noisy children at their play. Besides, where all things limp and halt, Could I go straight, should I alone Have kept my love without default Pitch'd at the true and heavenly tone? The festal-day might come to mind That miss'd the gift which more endears; The hour which might have been more kind, And now less fertile in vain tears; The good of common intercourse, For daintier pleasures, then despised, Now with what passionate remorse, What poignancy of hunger prized! The little wrong, now greatly rued, Which no repentance now could right; And love, in disbelieving mood, Deserting his celestial height. Withal to know, God's love sent grief To make me less the world's, and more Meek-hearted: ah, the sick relief! Why bow'd I not my heart before? 3 'What,' I exclaimed, with chill alarm, 'If this fantastic horror shows 'The feature of an actual harm!' And, coming straight to Sarum Close, As one who dreams his wife is dead, And cannot in his slumber weep, And moans upon his wretched bed, And wakes, and finds her there asleep, And laughs and sighs, so I, not less Relieved, beheld, with blissful start, The light and happy loveliness Which lay so heavy on my heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPRING LEMONADE by TONY HOAGLAND A SPRING SONG by LYMAN WHITNEY ALLEN SPRING'S RETURN by GEORGE LAWRENCE ANDREWS ODE TO SPRING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD ODE TO SPRING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SPRING FLOODS by MAURICE BARING SPRING IN WINTER by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES SPRING ON THE PRAIRIE by HERBERT BATES THE FARMER'S BOY: SPRING by ROBERT BLOOMFIELD A LONDON FETE by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE |
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