Here you will find the Poem Perfect Love of poet Archibald Lampman
Beloved, those who moan of love's brief day Shall find but little grace with me, I guess, Who know too well this passion's tenderness To deem that it shall lightly pass away, A moment's interlude in life's dull play; Though many loves have lingered to distress, So shall not ours, sweet Lady, ne'ertheless, But deepen with us till both heads be grey. For perfect love is like a fair green plant, That fades not with its blossoms, but lives on, And gentle lovers shall not come to want, Though fancy with its first mad dream be gone; Sweet is the flower, whose radiant glory flies, But sweeter still the green that never dies.
