George Meredith

(12 February 1828 – 18 May 1909 / Portsmouth, England)

George Meredith Poems

1. Youth In Memory 4/15/2010
2. Youth In Age 4/15/2010
3. Young Reynard 4/15/2010
4. Woodman And Echo 4/15/2010
5. Woodland Peace 4/15/2010
6. Winter Heavens 1/3/2003
7. Wind On The Lyre 4/15/2010
8. Will O' The Wisp 4/15/2010
9. Whimper Of Sympathy 4/15/2010
10. When I Would Imagine 4/15/2010
11. Violets 4/15/2010
12. Unknown Fair Faces 4/15/2010
13. Union In Disseverance 4/15/2010
14. Twilight Music 4/15/2010
15. Trafalgar Day 4/15/2010
16. To The Comic Spirit 4/15/2010
17. To Robin Redbreast 4/15/2010
18. To J. M. 4/15/2010
19. To Children: For Tyrants 4/15/2010
20. To Cardinal Manning 4/15/2010
21. To Alex. Smith, The 'Glasgow Poet,' On His Sonnet To 'Fame' 4/15/2010
22. To A Skylark 4/15/2010
23. To A Nightingale 4/15/2010
24. To A Friend Lost (Tom Taylor) 4/15/2010
25. Time And Sentiment 4/15/2010
26. The Youthful Quest 4/15/2010
27. The Young Usurper 4/15/2010
28. The Young Princess -- A Ballad Of Old Laws Of Love 4/15/2010
29. The Year's Shreddings 4/15/2010
30. The Years Had Worn Their Season's Belt 4/15/2010
31. The World's Advance 4/15/2010
32. The Woods Of Westermain 4/15/2010
33. The Wisdom Of Eld 4/15/2010
34. The Wild Rose And The Snowdrop 4/15/2010
35. The Wild Rose 4/15/2010
36. The Warning 4/15/2010
37. The Voyage Of The 'Ophir' 4/15/2010
38. The Two Masks 4/15/2010
39. The Two Blackbirds 4/15/2010
40. The Thrush In February 4/15/2010
Best Poem of George Meredith

Modern Love I: By This He Knew She Wept

By this he knew she wept with waking eyes:
That, at his hand's light quiver by her head,
The strange low sobs that shook their common bed
Were called into her with a sharp surprise,
And strangled mute, like little gaping snakes,
Dreadfully venomous to him. She lay
Stone-still, and the long darkness flowed away
With muffled pulses. Then, as midnight makes
Her giant heart of Memory and Tears
Drink the pale drug of silence, and so beat
Sleep's heavy measure, they from head to feet
Were moveless, looking through their dead black years,
By vain regret scrawled ...

Read the full of Modern Love I: By This He Knew She Wept

Dirge In Woods

A wind sways the pines,
And below
Not a breath of wild air;
Still as the mosses that glow
On the flooring and over the lines
Of the roots here and there.
The pine-tree drops its dead;
They are quiet, as under the sea.
Overhead, overhead

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