George Meredith Poems
- Lucifer In Starlight On a starred night Prince Lucifer ...
- Modern Love I: By This He Knew... By this he knew she ...
- The Lark Ascending He rises and begins to round, He drops ...
- Modern Love L: Thus Piteously ... Thus piteously Love closed...
- Modern Love Xxvi: Love Ere He ... Love ere he bleeds, an ...
- Modern Love V: A Message From ... A message from her set his ...
- Love's Grave MARK where the pressing wind shoots ...
George Meredith, OM was an English novelist and poet of the Victorian era.
Meredith was born in Portsmouth, England, a son and grandson of naval outfitters. His mother died when he was five. At the age of 14 he was sent to a Moravian School in Neuwied, Germany, where he remained for two years. He read law and was articled as a solicitor, but abandoned that profession for journalism and poetry. He collaborated with Edward Gryffydh Peacock, son of Thomas Love Peacock in publishing a privately circulated literary magazine, the Monthly Observer. He married Edward Peacock's widowed sister Mary Ellen Nicolls in 1849 when he was twenty-one years old and she was ... more »
Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
Quotationsmore quotations »
''Cynicism is intellectual dandyism without the coxcomb's feathers.''George Meredith (1828-1909), British author. Clara Middleton, quoting Mr. Whitford, in The Egoist, ch. 7 (1879). Clara adds: "It seems to me that ...
''Sentimentalists are they who seek to enjoy without incurring the Immense Debtorship for a thing done.''George Meredith (1828-1909), British author. Sir Austin Feverel, quoting the "Pilgrim's Scrip," in "Of the Spring Primrose and the Autumnal," ch. 24, ...
''I expect that Woman will be the last thing civilised by Man.''George Meredith (1828-1909), British author. The Ordeal of Richard Feverel, ch. 1 (1859). An aphorism from the "The Pilgrim's Scrip."
Lucifer In Starlight
On a starred night Prince Lucifer uprose.
Tired of his dark dominion swung the fiend
Above the rolling ball in cloud part screened,
Where sinners hugged their spectre of repose.
Poor prey to his hot fit of pride were those.
And now upon his western wing he leaned,
Now his huge bulk o'er Afric's sands careened,
Now the black planet shadowed Arctic snows.
Soaring through wider zones that pricked his scars
With memory of the old revolt from Awe,
He reached a middle height, and at the stars,
Which are the brain of heaven, he looked, and sank.
Around the ancient ...