Between the perfect marriage day
And that fierce future proud, and furled,
I only stole six days—six days
Enough for God to make the world.
For us is a creation made
New moon by night, new sun by day,
That ancient elm that holds the heavens
Sprang to its stature yesterday—
Dearest and first of all things free,
Alone as bride and queen and friend,
Brute facts may come and bitter truths,
But here all doubts shall have an end.
Never again with cloudy talk
Shall life be tricked or faith undone,
The world is many and is made,
But we are sane and we are one.
I’ve been reading Chesterton again. This poem was written shortly after his marriage to Frances Blog in 1901.