George Meredith

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

George Meredith Poems

1. A Ballad Of Fair Ladies In Revolt 4/14/2010
2. A Ballad Of Past Meridian 4/14/2010
3. A Certain People 4/14/2010
4. A Faith On Trial 4/14/2010
5. A Garden Idyl 4/14/2010
6. A Later Alexandrian 4/14/2010
7. A Preaching From A Spanish Ballad 4/14/2010
8. A Reading Of Life--The Test Of Manhood 4/14/2010
9. A Reading Of Life--The Vital Choice 4/14/2010
10. A Reading Of Life--With The Huntress 4/14/2010
11. A Reading Of Life--With The Persuader 4/14/2010
12. A Roar Through The Tall Twin Elm-Trees 4/14/2010
13. A Stave Of Roving Tim 4/14/2010
14. Agamemnon In The Fight 4/14/2010
15. Alsace-Lorraine 4/14/2010
16. Alternation 4/14/2010
17. An Orson Of The Muse 4/14/2010
18. Aneurin's Harp 4/14/2010
19. Angela Burdett-Coutts 4/14/2010
20. Angelic Love 4/14/2010
21. Antigone 4/14/2010
22. Appreciation 4/14/2010
23. Archduchess Anne 4/14/2010
24. Ask, Is Love Divine 4/14/2010
25. At The Close 4/14/2010
26. At The Funeral 4/14/2010
27. Atkins 4/14/2010
28. Autumn Even-Song 4/14/2010
29. Beauty Rothraut (From Moricke) 4/14/2010
30. Bellerophon 4/14/2010
31. Breath Of The Briar 4/14/2010
32. By Morning Twilight 4/14/2010
33. By The Rosanna--To F.M. Stanzer Thal, Tyrol 4/14/2010
34. Camelus Saltat 4/14/2010
35. Cassandra 4/14/2010
36. Change In Recurrence 4/14/2010
37. Chillanwallah 4/14/2010
38. Clash In Arms Of The Achaians And Trojans 4/14/2010
39. Continued 4/14/2010
40. Continued - Ii 4/14/2010
Best Poem of George Meredith

The Lark Ascending

He rises and begins to round,
He drops the silver chain of sound
Of many links without a break,
In chirrup, whistle, slur and shake,
All intervolv’d and spreading wide,
Like water-dimples down a tide
Where ripple ripple overcurls
And eddy into eddy whirls;
A press of hurried notes that run
So fleet they scarce are more than one,
Yet changingly the trills repeat
And linger ringing while they fleet,
Sweet to the quick o’ the ear, and dear
To her beyond the handmaid ear,
Who sits beside our inner springs,
Too often dry for this he brings,
Which ...

Read the full of The Lark Ascending

Love's Grave

MARK where the pressing wind shoots javelin-like,
Its skeleton shadow on the broad-back'd wave!
Here is a fitting spot to dig Love's grave;
Here where the ponderous breakers plunge and strike,
And dart their hissing tongues high up the sand:
In hearing of the ocean, and in sight
Of those ribb'd wind-streaks running into white.
If I the death of Love had deeply plann'd,
I never could have made it half so sure,

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