Coventry Patmore

(23 July 1823 - 26 November 1896 / Essex, England)

Coventry Patmore Poems

1. The Toys 1/3/2003
2. The Married Lover 1/3/2003
3. Departure 1/3/2003
4. A Farewell 1/3/2003
5. Unthrift 1/3/2003
6. The Revelation 1/3/2003
7. The Foreign Land 1/3/2003
8. 'If I Were Dead' 1/4/2003
9. The Spirit's Depths 1/3/2003
10. Love's Reality 1/3/2003
11. Magna Est Veritas 1/3/2003
12. Faint Yet Pursuing 1/3/2003
13. Deliciae Sapientiae De Amore 1/3/2003
14. The Kiss 1/3/2003
15. Stars And Moon 4/14/2010
16. A Dream 4/14/2010
17. A London Fête 4/14/2010
18. A Retrospect 4/14/2010
19. Alexander And Lycon 4/14/2010
20. Amelia 4/14/2010
21. An Idyll 4/14/2010
22. Eros 4/14/2010
23. King Cophetua The First 4/14/2010
24. L’allegro 4/14/2010
25. Ma Belle 4/14/2010
26. Mignonne 4/14/2010
27. Night And Sleep 4/14/2010
28. Olympus 4/14/2010
29. Regina Cœle 4/14/2010
30. Semele 4/14/2010
31. Tamerton Church-Tower, Or, First Love 4/14/2010
32. The After-Glow 4/14/2010
33. The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto I. 4/14/2010
34. The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto Ii. 4/14/2010
35. The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto Iv. 4/14/2010
36. The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto Iii. 4/14/2010
37. The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto Ix. 4/14/2010
38. The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto V. 4/14/2010
39. The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto Vi. 4/14/2010
40. The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto Vii. 4/14/2010
Best Poem of Coventry Patmore

The Married Lover

Why, having won her, do I woo?
Because her spirit's vestal grace
Provokes me always to pursue,
But, spirit-like, 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 favour feeds
Allegiance from a love so high
That thence no false conceit proceeds
Of difference bridged, or state...

Read the full of The Married Lover

Departure

It was not like your great and gracious ways!
Do you, that have naught other to lament,
Never, my Love, repent
Of how, that July afternoon,
You went,
With sudden, unintelligible phrase,
And frighten'd eye,
Upon your journey of so many days
Without a single kiss, or a good-bye?

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