I walk, I trust, with open eyes; <br />I've travelled half my worldly course; <br />And in the way behind me lies <br />Much vanity and some remorse; <br />I've lived to feel how pride may part <br />Spirits, tho' matched like hand and glove; <br />I've blushed for love's abode, the heart; <br />But have not disbelieved in love; <br />Nor unto love, sole mortal thing <br />Or worth immortal, done the wrong <br />To count it, with the rest that sing, <br />Unworthy of a serious song; <br />And love is my reward: for now, <br />When most of dead'ning time complain, <br />The myrtle blooms upon my brow, <br />Its odour quickens all my brain.<br /><br />Coventry Patmore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-s-reality/
