Page:Aurora Leigh a Poem.djvu/156

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
AURORA LEIGH.
147
As some grown man, who never had a child,Puts by some child who plays at being a man;—'You did not, do not, cannot comprehendMy choice, my ends, my motives, nor myself:No matter now—we'll let it pass, you say.I thank you for your generous cousinshipWhich helps this present; I accept for herYour favourable thoughts. We're fallen on days,We two, who are not poets, when to wedRequires less mutual love than common love,For two together to bear out at onceUpon the loveless many. Work in pairs,In galley-couplings or in marriage-rings,The difference lies in the honour, not the work,—And such we're bound to, I and she. But love,(You poets are benighted in this age;The hour's too late for catching even moths,You've gnats instead,) love!—love's fool-paradiseIs out of date, like Adam's. Set a swanTo swim the Trenton, rather than true loveTo float its fabulous plumage safely downThe cataracts of this loud transition-time,—Whose roar, for ever, henceforth, in my ears,Must keep me deaf to music.'There, I turnedAnd kissed poor Marian, out of discontent.The man had baffled, chafed me, till I flungFor refuge to the woman,—as, sometimes,Impatient of some crowded room's close smell,You throw a window open, and lean out
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.