excused himself, saying he had no time. He therefore stayed without the door until I brought him the patent, whereupon he thanked me and said, "Do not wonder hereat, you will soon see what my purpose is." Whereupon he struck his spurs into his horse's sides, and did not come back again.

THE ANGEL IN THE HOUSE.'

BY COVENTRY PATMORE.

[COVENTRY KEARSEY DIGHTON PATMORE, English poet, was born at Woodford, in Essex, July 23, 1823, and was librarian of the British Museum 18471868. He married Emily Augusta Andrews in 1847, and after her death embraced Catholicism. He ultimately removed to Hastings, where he built a large Catholic church at his own expense. His writings include: "Tamerton Church Tower" (1853), "The Angel in the House" (1854-1862), "The Unknown Eros and other Odes" (1877), "Religio Poetæ " (1893), and "The Rod, the Root, and the Flower (1895). Patmore ardently supported the Preraphaelite movement and contributed several poems to the Germ, the organ of the Preraphaelites. He died in 1896.]

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 honors and desires.

Her graces make him rich, and ask
No guerdon; this imperial style

1 By permission of Geo. Bell & Sons. (7th edition, fcap. 8vo., price 38. 6d.)

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 labor immense, To stretch the languid bulk and thew Of love's fresh-born magnipotence. No smallest boon were bought too dear, Though bartered 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-consigned with lavish will, They ask but love proportionate; How swift pursuit by small degrees, Love's tactic, works like miracle; How valor, 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, Outsoars 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.

Unthrift.

Ah, wasteful woman, she who may

On her sweet self set her own price,

Knowing man cannot choose but pay,
How has she cheapened paradise;
How given for naught her priceless gift,
How spoiled the bread and spilled the wine,
Which, spent with due, respective thrift,
Had made brutes men, and men divine.

IV.

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.

THE COUNTY BALL,

PRELUDES.

I.

Love Ceremonious.

Keep your undrest, familiar style
For strangers, but respect your friend,
Her most, whose matrimonial smile
Is and asks honor without end.
'Tis found, and needs it must so be,
That life from love's allegiance flags,
When love forgets his majesty

In sloth's unceremonious rags.

Let love make home a gracious Court;
There let the world's rude, hasty ways
Be fashioned to a loftier port,

And learn to bow and stand at gaze;
And let the sweet respective sphere
Of personal worship there obtain
Circumference for moving clear

None treading on another's train.
This makes that pleasures do not cloy,
And dignifies our mortal strife
With calmness and considerate joy,
Befitting our immortal life.

II.

The Rainbow.

A stately rainbow came and stood,

When I was young, in High-Hurst Park;

Its bright feet lit the hill and wood.

Beyond, and cloud and sward were dark; And I, who thought the splendor ours

Because the place was, t'wards it flew,
And there, amidst the glittering showers,
Gazed vainly for the glorious view.
With whatsoever's lovely, know
It is not ours; stand off to see,
Or beauty's apparition so
Puts on invisibility.

III.

A Paradox.

To tryst Love blindfold goes, for fear
He should not see, and eyeless night
He chooses still for breathing near
Beauty, that lives but in the sight.

LOVE IN IDLENESS.

PRELUDES.

I.

Honor and Desert.

O queen, awake to thy renown,

Require what 'tis our wealth to give,
And comprehend and wear the crown
Of thy despised prerogative!

I, who in manhood's name at length
With glad songs come to abdicate
The gross regality of strength,

Must yet in this thy praise abate,
That, through thine erring humbleness
And disregard of thy degree,
Mainly, has man been so much less

Than fits his fellowship with thee.

High thoughts had shaped the foolish brow,
The coward had grasped the hero's sword,
The vilest had been great, hadst thou,
Just to thyself, been worth's reward.
But lofty honors undersold

Seller and buyer both disgrace;
And favors that make folly bold

Banish the light from virtue's face.

II.

Love and Honor.

What man with baseness so content,
Or sick with false conceit of right,
As not to know that the element

And inmost warmth of love's delight
Is honor? Who'd not rather kiss
A duchess than a milkmaid, prank
The two in equal grace, which is
Precedent Nature's obvious rank?
Much rather, then, a woman decked

With saintly honors, chaste and good,
Whose thoughts celestial things affect,
Whose eyes express her heavenly mood!
Those lesser vaunts are dimmed or lost
Which plume her name or paint her lip,
Extinct in the deep glowing boast
Of her angelic fellowship.

III.

Valor misdirected.

I'll hunt for dangers North and South,
To prove my love, which sloth maligns!
What seems to say her rosy mouth?
"I'm not convinced by proofs but signs."

HUSBAND AND WIFE.

PRELUDES.

I.

The Married Lover.

Why, having won her, do I woo?
Because her spirit's vestal grace
Provokes me always to pursue,
But, spiritlike, eludes embrace;
Because her womanhood is such
That, as on court days subjects kiss
The Queen's hand, yet so near a touch
Affirms no mean familiarness,

Nay, rather marks more fair the height
Which can with safety so neglect

To dread, as lower ladies might,

That grace could meet with disrespect, Thus she with happy favor feeds Allegiance from a love so high