WHAT need of clamorous bells, or ribands gay, <br />These humble nuptials to proclaim or grace? <br />Angels of love, look down upon the place; <br />Shed on the chosen vale a sun-bright day! <br />Yet no proud gladness would the Bride display <br />Even for such promise:--serious is her face, <br />Modest her mien; and she, whose thoughts keep pace <br />With gentleness, in that becoming way <br />Will thank you. Faultless does the Maid appear; <br />No disproportion in her soul, no strife: <br />But, when the closer view of wedded life <br />Hath shown that nothing human can be clear <br />From frailty, for that insight may the Wife <br />To her indulgent Lord become more dear.<br /><br />William Wordsworth<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/composed-on-the-eve-of-the-marriage-of-a-friend-in-the-vale-of-grasmere/
