Perhaps, After All, Romance Did Not Come Into One’s Life With Pomp And Blare, Like A Gay Knight Riding Down; Perhaps It Crept To One’s Side Like An Old Friend Through Quiet Ways; Perhaps It Revealed Itself In Seeming Prose, Until Some Sudden Shaft Of Illumination Flung Athwart Its Pages Betrayed The Rhythm And The Music, Perhaps . . . Perhaps . . . Love Unfolded Naturally Out Of A Beautiful Friendship, As A Golden-hearted Rose Slipping From Its Green Sheath.
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Perhaps, After All, Romance Did Not Come
Lucy Maud Montgomery
Perhaps, After All, Romance Did Not Come Into One’s Life With Pomp And Blare, Like A Gay Knight Riding Down; Perhaps It Crept To One’s Side Like An Old Friend Through Quiet Ways; Perhaps It Revealed Itself In Seeming Prose, Until Some Sudden Shaft Of Illumination Flung Athwart Its Pages Betrayed The Rhythm And The Music, Perhaps . . . Perhaps . . . Love Unfolded Naturally Out Of A Beautiful Friendship, As A Golden-hearted Rose Slipping From Its Green Sheath.
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