

Transcribed from the 1891 Cassell & Company edition by David Price, email
ccx074@pglaf.org

                        CASSELL’S NATIONAL LIBRARY

                                * * * * *





                                   THE
                           ANGEL IN THE HOUSE.


                                * * * * *

                                    BY
                            COVENTRY PATMORE.

                                * * * * *

    “Par la grace infinie, Dieu les mist au monde ensemble.”

                                                      _Rousier des Dames_.

                      [Picture: Decorative graphic]

                       CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED:
                       _LONDON, PARIS & MELBOURNE_.
                                  1891.

                                * * * * *

                                THIS POEM
                               IS INSCRIBED
                                    TO
                            THE MEMORY OF HER
                  BY WHOM AND FOR WHOM I BECAME A POET.

                                * * * * *




INTRODUCTION.


THERE could be but one answer to the suggestion of Mr. Coventry Patmore
that his “Angel in the House” might usefully have a place in this
“National Library.”  The suggestion was made with the belief that wide
and cheap diffusion would not take from the value of a copyright library
edition, while the best use of writing is fulfilled by the spreading of
verse dedicated to the sacred love of home.  The two parts of the Poem
appeared in 1854 and 1856, were afterwards elaborately revised, and have
since obtained a permanent place among the Home Books of the English
People.  Our readers will join, surely, in thanks to the author for the
present he has made us.

                                                                     H. M.




CONTENTS

                       BOOK I.
                                                  PAGE
                   THE PROLOGUE.                    13
CANTO
       I.  THE CATHEDRAL CLOSE                      17
           Preludes:
               1.  The Impossibility                17
               2.  Love’s Really                    17
               3.  The Poet’s Confidence            18
           The Cathedral Close                      19
      II.  MARY AND MILDRED                         24
           Preludes:
               1.  The Paragon                      24
               2.  Love at Large                    26
               3.  Love and Duty                    27
               4.  A Distinction                    28
           Mary and Mildred                         28
     III.  HONORIA                                  32
           Preludes:
               1.  The Lover                        32
               2.  Love a Virtue                    34
               3.  The Attainment                   34
           Honoria                                  35
      IV.  THE MORNING CALL                         39
           Preludes:
               1.  The Rose of the World            39
               2.  The Tribute                      41
               3.  Compensation                     42
           The Morning Call                         42
       V.  THE VIOLETS                              46
           Preludes:
               1.  The Comparison                   46
               2.  Love in Tears                    48
               3.  Prospective Faith                48
               4.  Venus Victrix                    49
           The Violets                              49
      VI.  THE DEAN                                 53
           Preludes:
               1.  Perfect Love rare                53
               2.  Love Justified                   54
               3.  Love Serviceable                 55
               4.  A Riddle Solved                  56
           The Dean                                 56
     VII.  ÆTNA AND THE MOON                        60
           Preludes:
               1.  Love’s Immortality               60
               2.  Heaven and Earth                 61
           Ætna and the Moon                        62
    VIII.  SARUM PLAIN                              66
           Preludes:
               1.  Life of Life                     66
               2.  The Revelation                   67
               3.  The Spirit’s Epochs              67
               4.  The Prototype                    68
               5.  The Praise of Love               68
           Sarum Plain                              69
      IX.  SAHARA                                   74
           Preludes:
               1.  The Wife’s Tragedy               74
               2.  Common Graces                    75
               3.  The Zest of Life                 76
               4.  Fool and Wise                    76
           Sahara                                   77
       X.  CHURCH TO CHURCH                         81
           Preludes:
               1.  The Joyful Wisdom                81
               2.  The Devices                      84
           Going to Church                          84
      XI.  THE DANCE                                89
           Preludes:
               1.  The Daughter of Eve              89
               2.  Aurea Dicta                      91
           The Dance                                93
     XII.  THE ABDICATION                           97
           Preludes:
               1.  The Chace                        97
               2.  Denied                          100
               3.  The Churl                       101
           The Abdication                          102
                       BOOK II.
           THE PROLOGUE                            105
       I.  ACCEPTED                                109
           Preludes:
               1.  The Song of Songs               109
               2.  The Kites                       110
               3.  Orpheus                         111
               4.  Nearest the Dearest             111
               5.  Perspective                     112
           Accepted                                112
      II.  THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE                 116
           Preludes:
               1.  The Changed Allegiance          116
               2.  Beauty                          120
               3.  Lais and Lucretia               120
           The Course of True Love                 121
     III.  THE COUNTRY BALL                        126
           Preludes:
               1.  Love Ceremonious                126
               2.  The Rainbow                     127
               3.  A Paradox                       127
           The County Ball                         128
      IV.  LOVE IN IDLENESS                        132
           Preludes:
               1.  Honour and Desert               132
               2.  Love and Honour                 133
               3.  Valour Misdirected              134
           Love in Idleness                        134
       V.  THE QUEEN’S ROOM                        139
           Preludes:
               1.  Rejected                        139
               2.  Rachel                          140
               3.  The Heart’s Prophecies          141
           The Queen’s Room                        141
      VI.  THE LOVE-LETTERS                        145
           Preludes:
               1.  Love’s Perversity               145
               2.  The Power of Love               147
           The Love-Letters                        148
     VII.  THE REVULSION                           152
           Preludes:
               1.  Joy and Use                     152
               2.  ‘She was Mine’                  153
           The Revulsion                           153
    VIII.  THE KOH-I-NOOR                          158
           Preludes:
               1.  In Love                         158
               2.  Love Thinking                   160
               3.  The Kiss                        161
           The Koh-i-noor                          161
      IX.  THE FRIENDS                             165
           Preludes:
               1.  The Nursling of Civility        165
               2.  The Foreign Land                166
               3.  Disappointment                  166
           The Friends                             167
       X.  THE EPITAPH                             170
           Preludes:
               1.  Frost in Harvest                170
               2.  Felicity                        171
               3.  Marriage Indissoluble           172
           The Epitaph                             172
      XI.  THE WEDDING                             176
           Preludes:
               1.  Platonic Love                   176
               2.  A Demonstration                 177
               3.  The Symbol                      178
               4.  Constancy Rewarded              178
           The Wedding                             179
     XII.  HUSBAND AND WIFE                        183
           Preludes:
               1.  The Married Lover               183
               2.  The Amaranth                    184
           Husband and Wife                        185
           The Epilogue                            189




Book I.


THE PROLOGUE.


1


   ‘MINE is no horse with wings, to gain
      The region of the spheral chime;
   He does but drag a rumbling wain,
      Cheer’d by the coupled bells of rhyme;
   And if at Fame’s bewitching note
      My homely Pegasus pricks an ear,
   The world’s cart-collar hugs his throat,
      And he’s too wise to prance or rear.’


2


   Thus ever answer’d Vaughan his Wife,
      Who, more than he, desired his fame;
   But, in his heart, his thoughts were rife
      How for her sake to earn a name.
   With bays poetic three times crown’d,
      And other college honours won,
   He, if he chose, might be renown’d,
      He had but little doubt, she none;
   And in a loftier phrase he talk’d
      With her, upon their Wedding-Day,
   (The eighth), while through the fields they walk’d,
      Their children shouting by the way.


3


   ‘Not careless of the gift of song,
      Nor out of love with noble fame,
   I, meditating much and long
      What I should sing, how win a name,
   Considering well what theme unsung,
      What reason worth the cost of rhyme,
   Remains to loose the poet’s tongue
      In these last days, the dregs of time,
   Learn that to me, though born so late,
      There does, beyond desert, befall
   (May my great fortune make me great!)
      The first of themes, sung last of all.
   In green and undiscover’d ground,
      Yet near where many others sing,
   I have the very well-head found
      Whence gushes the Pierian Spring.’


4


   Then she: ‘What is it, Dear?  The Life
      Of Arthur, or Jerusalem’s Fall?’
   ‘Neither: your gentle self, my Wife,
      And love, that grows from one to all.
   And if I faithfully proclaim
      Of these the exceeding worthiness,
   Surely the sweetest wreath of Fame
      Shall, to your hope, my brows caress;
   And if, by virtue of my choice
      Of this, the most heart-touching theme
   That ever tuned a poet’s voice,
      I live, as I am bold to dream,
   To be delight to many days,
      And into silence only cease
   When those are still, who shared their bays
      With Laura and with Beatrice,
   Imagine, Love, how learned men
      Will deep-conceiv’d devices find,
   Beyond my purpose and my ken,
      An ancient bard of simple mind.
   You, Sweet, his Mistress, Wife, and Muse,
      Were you for mortal woman meant?
   Your praises give a hundred clues
      To mythological intent!
   And, severing thus the truth from trope,
      In you the Commentators see
   Outlines occult of abstract scope,
      A future for philosophy!
   Your arm’s on mine! these are the meads
      In which we pass our living days;
   There Avon runs, now hid with reeds,
      Now brightly brimming pebbly bays;
   Those are our children’s songs that come
      With bells and bleatings of the sheep;
   And there, in yonder English home,
      We thrive on mortal food and sleep!’
   She laugh’d.  How proud she always was
      To feel how proud he was of her!
   But he had grown distraught, because
      The Muse’s mood began to stir.


5


   His purpose with performance crown’d,
      He to his well-pleased Wife rehears’d,
   When next their Wedding-Day came round,
      His leisure’s labour, ‘Book the First.’



CANTO I
The Cathedral Close.


PRELUDES.

I.
_The Impossibility_.


   Lo, love’s obey’d by all.  ’Tis right
      That all should know what they obey,
   Lest erring conscience damp delight,
      And folly laugh our joys away.
   Thou Primal Love, who grantest wings
      And voices to the woodland birds,
   Grant me the power of saying things
      Too simple and too sweet for words!


II.
_Love’s Really_.


   I walk, I trust, with open eyes;
      I’ve travell’d half my worldly course;
   And in the way behind me lies
      Much vanity and some remorse;
   I’ve lived to feel how pride may part
      Spirits, tho’ match’d like hand and glove;
   I’ve blush’d for love’s abode, the heart;
      But have not disbelieved in love;
   Nor unto love, sole mortal thing
      Of worth immortal, done the wrong
   To count it, with the rest that sing,
      Unworthy of a serious song;
   And love is my reward; for now,
      When most of dead’ning time complain,
   The myrtle blooms upon my brow,
      Its odour quickens all my brain.


III.
_The Poet’s Confidence_.


   The richest realm of all the earth
      Is counted still a heathen land:
   Lo, I, like Joshua, now go forth
      To give it into Israel’s hand.
   I will not hearken blame or praise;
      For so should I dishonour do
   To that sweet Power by which these Lays
      Alone are lovely, good, and true;
   Nor credence to the world’s cries give,
      Which ever preach and still prevent
   Pure passion’s high prerogative
      To make, not follow, precedent.
   From love’s abysmal ether rare
      If I to men have here made known
   New truths, they, like new stars, were there
      Before, though not yet written down.
   Moving but as the feelings move,
      I run, or loiter with delight,
   Or pause to mark where gentle Love
      Persuades the soul from height to height.
   Yet, know ye, though my words are gay
      As David’s dance, which Michal scorn’d.
   If kindly you receive the Lay,
      You shall be sweetly help’d and warn’d.


THE CATHEDRAL CLOSE.

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.
   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.



CANTO II.
Mary And Mildred.


PRELUDES.

I.
_The Paragon_.


   WHEN I behold the skies aloft
      Passing the pageantry of dreams,
   The cloud whose bosom, cygnet-soft,
      A couch for nuptial Juno seems,
   The ocean broad, the mountains bright,
      The shadowy vales with feeding herds,
   I from my lyre the music smite,
      Nor want for justly matching words.
   All forces of the sea and air,
      All interests of hill and plain,
   I so can sing, in seasons fair,
      That who hath felt may feel again.
   Elated oft by such free songs,
      I think with utterance free to raise
   That hymn for which the whole world longs,
      A worthy hymn in woman’s praise;
   A hymn bright-noted like a bird’s,
      Arousing these song-sleepy times
   With rhapsodies of perfect words,
      Ruled by returning kiss of rhymes.
   But when I look on her and hope
      To tell with joy what I admire,
   My thoughts lie cramp’d in narrow scope,
      Or in the feeble birth expire;
   No mystery of well-woven speech,
      No simplest phrase of tenderest fall,
   No liken’d excellence can reach
      Her, thee most excellent of all,
   The best half of creation’s best,
      Its heart to feel, its eye to see,
   The crown and complex of the rest,
      Its aim and its epitome.
   Nay, might I utter my conceit,
      ’Twere after all a vulgar song,
   For she’s so simply, subtly sweet,
      My deepest rapture does her wrong.
   Yet is it now my chosen task
      To sing her worth as Maid and Wife;
   Nor happier post than this I ask,
      To live her laureate all my life.
   On wings of love uplifted free,
      And by her gentleness made great,
   I’ll teach how noble man should be
      To match with such a lovely mate;
   And then in her may move the more
      The woman’s wish to be desired,
   (By praise increased), till both shall soar,
      With blissful emulations fired.
   And, as geranium, pink, or rose
      Is thrice itself through power of art,
   So may my happy skill disclose
      New fairness even in her fair heart;
   Until that churl shall nowhere be
      Who bends not, awed, before the throne
   Of her affecting majesty,
      So meek, so far unlike our own;
   Until (for who may hope too much
      From her who wields the powers of love?)
   Our lifted lives at last shall touch
      That happy goal to which they move;
   Until we find, as darkness rolls
      Away, and evil mists dissolve,
   That nuptial contrasts are the poles
      On which the heavenly spheres revolve.


II.
_Love at Large_.


   Whene’er I come where ladies are,
      How sad soever I was before,
   Though like a ship frost-bound and far
      Withheld in ice from the ocean’s roar,
   Third-winter’d in that dreadful dock,
      With stiffen’d cordage, sails decay’d,
   And crew that care for calm and shock
      Alike, too dull to be dismay’d,
   Yet, if I come where ladies are,
      How sad soever I was before,
   Then is my sadness banish’d far,
      And I am like that ship no more;
   Or like that ship if the ice-field splits,
      Burst by the sudden polar Spring,
   And all thank God with their warming wits,
      And kiss each other and dance and sing,
   And hoist fresh sails, that make the breeze
      Blow them along the liquid sea,
   Out of the North, where life did freeze,
      Into the haven where they would be.


III.
_Love and Duty_.


   Anne lived so truly from above,
      She was so gentle and so good,
   That duty bade me fall in love,
      And ‘but for that,’ thought I, ‘I should!’
   I worshipp’d Kate with all my will,
      In idle moods you seem to see
   A noble spirit in a hill,
      A human touch about a tree.


IV.
_A Distinction_.


   The lack of lovely pride, in her
      Who strives to please, my pleasure numbs,
   And still the maid I most prefer
      Whose care to please with pleasing comes.


MARY AND MILDRED.

1


   One morning, after Church, I walk’d
      Alone with Mary on the lawn,
   And felt myself, howe’er we talk’d,
      To grave themes delicately drawn.
   When she, delighted, found I knew
      More of her peace than she supposed,
   Our confidences heavenwards grew,
      Like fox-glove buds, in pairs disclosed.
   Our former faults did we confess,
      Our ancient feud was more than heal’d,
   And, with the woman’s eagerness
      For amity full-sign’d and seal’d,
   She, offering up for sacrifice
      Her heart’s reserve, brought out to show
   Some verses, made when she was ice
      To all but Heaven, six years ago;
   Since happier grown!  I took and read
      The neat-writ lines.  She, void of guile,
   Too late repenting, blush’d, and said,
      I must not think about the style.


2


   ‘Day after day, until to-day,
      Imaged the others gone before,
   The same dull task, the weary way,
      The weakness pardon’d o’er and o’er,

   ‘The thwarted thirst, too faintly felt,
      For joy’s well-nigh forgotten life,
   The restless heart, which, when I knelt,
      Made of my worship barren strife.

   ‘Ah, whence to-day’s so sweet release,
      This clearance light of all my care,
   This conscience free, this fertile peace,
      These softly folded wings of prayer,

   ‘This calm and more than conquering love,
      With which nought evil dares to cope,
   This joy that lifts no glance above,
      For faith too sure, too sweet for hope?

   ‘O, happy time, too happy change,
      It will not live, though fondly nurst!
   Full soon the sun will seem as strange
      As now the cloud which seems dispersed.’


3


   She from a rose-tree shook the blight;
      And well she knew that I knew well
   Her grace with silence to requite;
      And, answering now the luncheon bell,
   I laugh’d at Mildred’s laugh, which made
      All melancholy wrong, its mood
   Such sweet self-confidence display’d,
      So glad a sense of present good.


4


   I laugh’d and sigh’d: for I confess
      I never went to Ball, or Fête,
   Or Show, but in pursuit express
      Of my predestinated mate;
   And thus to me, who had in sight
      The happy chance upon the cards,
   Each beauty blossom’d in the light
      Of tender personal regards;
   And, in the records of my breast,
      Red-letter’d, eminently fair,
   Stood sixteen, who, beyond the rest,
      By turns till then had been my care:
   At Berlin three, one at St. Cloud,
      At Chatteris, near Cambridge, one,
   At Ely four, in London two,
      Two at Bowness, in Paris none,
   And, last and best, in Sarum three;
      But dearest of the whole fair troop,
   In judgment of the moment, she
      Whose daisy eyes had learn’d to droop.
   Her very faults my fancy fired;
      My loving will, so thwarted, grew;
   And, bent on worship, I admired
      Whate’er she was, with partial view.
   And yet when, as to-day, her smile
      Was prettiest, I could not but note
   Honoria, less admired the while,
      Was lovelier, though from love remote.



CANTO III.
Honoria


PRELUDES.

I.
_The Lover_.


   HE meets, by heavenly chance express,
      The destined maid; some hidden hand
   Unveils to him that loveliness
      Which others cannot understand.
   His merits in her presence grow,
      To match the promise in her eyes,
   And round her happy footsteps blow
      The authentic airs of Paradise.
   For joy of her he cannot sleep;
      Her beauty haunts him all the night;
   It melts his heart, it makes him weep
      For wonder, worship, and delight.
   O, paradox of love, he longs,
      Most humble when he most aspires,
   To suffer scorn and cruel wrongs
      From her he honours and desires.
   Her graces make him rich, and ask
      No guerdon; this imperial style
   Affronts him; he disdains to bask,
      The pensioner of her priceless smile.
   He prays for some hard thing to do,
      Some work of fame and labour immense,
   To stretch the languid bulk and thew
      Of love’s fresh-born magnipotence.
   No smallest boon were bought too dear,
      Though barter’d for his love-sick life;
   Yet trusts he, with undaunted cheer,
      To vanquish heaven, and call her Wife
   He notes how queens of sweetness still
      Neglect their crowns, and stoop to mate;
   How, self-consign’d with lavish will,
      They ask but love proportionate;
   How swift pursuit by small degrees,
      Love’s tactic, works like miracle;
   How valour, clothed in courtesies,
      Brings down the haughtiest citadel;
   And therefore, though he merits not
      To kiss the braid upon her skirt,
   His hope, discouraged ne’er a jot,
      Out-soars all possible desert.


II.
_Love a Virtue_.


   Strong passions mean weak will, and he
      Who truly knows the strength and bliss
   Which are in love, will own with me
      No passion but a virtue ’tis.
   Few hear my word; it soars above
      The subtlest senses of the swarm
   Of wretched things which know not love,
      Their Psyche still a wingless worm.
   Ice-cold seems heaven’s noble glow
      To spirits whose vital heat is hell;
   And to corrupt hearts even so
      The songs I sing, the tale I tell.
   These cannot see the robes of white
      In which I sing of love.  Alack,
   But darkness shows in heavenly light,
      Though whiteness, in the dark, is black!


III.
_The Attainment_.


   You love?  That’s high as you shall go;
      For ’tis as true as Gospel text,
   Not noble then is never so,
      Either in this world or the next.


HONORIA.

1


   Grown weary with a week’s exile
      From those fair friends, I rode to see
   The church-restorings; lounged awhile,
      And met the Dean; was ask’d to tea,
   And found their cousin, Frederick Graham
      At Honor’s side.  Was I concern’d,
   If, when she