Romances paint at full length peoples wooings, But only give a bust of marriages: For no one cares for matrimonial cooings. Theres nothing wrong in a connubial kiss. Think you, if Laura had been Petrarchs wife, He would have written sonnets all his life? ByronDon Juan. Canto III. St. 8.
He loved the twilight that surrounds The border-land of old romance; Where glitter hauberk, helm, and lance, And banner waves, and trumpet sounds, And ladies ride with hawk on wrist, And mighty warriors sweep along, Magnified by the purple mist, The dusk of centuries and of song. LongfellowPrelude to Tales of a Wayside Inn. Pt. V. L. 130.