Author: Coventry Patmore

Not in the crisis of events Of compass’d hopes, or fears fulfill’d, Or acts of gravest consequence, Are life’s delight […]

An idle poet, here and there, Looks around him; but, for all the rest, The world, unfathomably fair, Is duller […]

My little Son, who look’d from thoughtful eyes And moved and spoke in quiet grown-up wise, Having my law the […]

Love, light for me Thy ruddiest blazing torch, That I, albeit a beggar by the Porch Of the glad Palace […]

‘IF I were dead, you’d sometimes say, Poor Child!’ The dear lips quiver’d as they spake, And the tears brake […]