George Eliot Poems

Day is dying! Float, o song,
Down the westward river,
Requiem chanting to the Day,
Day, the mighty giver!
...

Should I long that dark were fair? Say, O song.
Lacks my love aught that I should long?
Dark the night with breath all flow'rs
...

Came a pretty maid
By the moon's pure light . . .
Loved me well, she said,
...

The world is great!
The birds fly from me;
The stars are golden fruit
...

Warm whisp'ring through the slender olive leaves
Came to me a gentle sound,
Whis'pring of a secret found
...

O bird, that used to press,
Thy head against my cheek
With touch that seem'd to speak,
And ask a tender 'yes' -
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It was in the prime
Of the sweet springtime
In the linnet's throat
Trembled the love note,
...

Spring comes hither
Buds the rose . . .
Roses wither
Sweet spring goes . . .
...

Maiden crowned with glossy blackness,
Lithe as panther forest-roaming,
Long-armed Naiad when she dances
On a stream of ether floating,
...

I.

I cannot choose but think upon the time
When our two lives grew like two buds that kiss
...