Classic Poem

— Marriage is friendship, — but it adds a higher
â?ƒAnd nobler sweetness to the friendly phase;
Touches emotion with diviner fire,
â?ƒAnd wreathes pale crowns with crimson blossom-sprays.
Something supremely sweet and pure it brings,
â?ƒYet all the sacred gifts that friendship brought
Are still included. — She . —
— Necklaces and rings
â?ƒAnd bracelets seem to me the gifts most sought
By average brides; and by the average man — — He . —
â?ƒ — Yes, that is just the sorrow and the curse —
The misery, the grief, the bitter ban,
â?ƒToo sea-deep to be sounded in a verse.
Most bitter indeed it is that love should be
â?ƒDegraded (as it is) far, far, below
The level of friendship even. — She . —
— Yes, I see
â?ƒDaily how marriage ends in strife and woe.
That makes a woman cautious. — He . —
— Well may she
â?ƒBe cautious, for she, giving, gives her all.
She gives the wonder of her purity.
â?ƒHer gift is infinite: man's gift is small.
And yet not always. When a man bestows
â?ƒHis noblest purest manhood, then the gift
Has its own godlike fragrance, though the rose
â?ƒOf womanhood be sweeter. — She . —
— Thus to sift,
Divide and analyse, dissect and part
â?ƒLove (poor old sweet love!) makes one half despair. — He . —
— Yes, but the lesson is — Find one true heart;
â?ƒHold it God's choicest gift, his dower most rare.
And for much-blundering man the lesson is —
â?ƒRaise woman; help her; learn, if she be pure,
She wholly gives her being in her kiss:
â?ƒShe loves with love most sacred and most sure. — She . —
— How did you learn this? True it is indeed,
â?ƒBut as a rule men hear it with surprise. — He . —
— I learnt it where I learnt my whole love-creed,
â?ƒThrough watching the pure woman in your eyes.
One woman can reveal all purity,
â?ƒAll love, all womanhood, deep things past speech,
To her one lover, so that lover be
â?ƒWilling to let her, quite unconscious, teach. — She . —

— Unconscious — yes! — He . —
— That is the very chief
â?ƒOf all things. As our love and friendship grew
From spring to summer, from slow bud to leaf,
â?ƒFrom autumn skies to heights of summer blue,
I watched you daily and within your eyes
â?ƒI read deep lessons, as I marked the change
From fair bright girl to woman fair and wise,
â?ƒAs your thoughts ripened, took a wider range.
But if you had not been unconscious — quite —
â?ƒAll had been spoilt. So tender is the flower
Of womanhood the least fleck mars the white,
â?ƒSullies its petals, and discounts its power.
In fact the insane whole effort of the world
â?ƒIs to destroy the thing it values most;
To force from blossom-folds not half unfurled
â?ƒA fragrance which, if scattered, soon is lost.
If only all women were as pure as you — — She . —
â?ƒ — Or all men sound of heart, my true old friend — — He . —

— Love would be fresh and sweet as morning dew,
â?ƒAnd half the sorrows of the world would end. —