George Meredith Poems
|282.||Union In Disseverance||4/15/2010|
|283.||Unknown Fair Faces||4/15/2010|
|285.||When I Would Imagine||4/15/2010|
|286.||Whimper Of Sympathy||4/15/2010|
|287.||Will O' The Wisp||4/15/2010|
|288.||Wind On The Lyre||4/15/2010|
|291.||Woodman And Echo||4/15/2010|
|293.||Youth In Age||4/15/2010|
|294.||Youth In Memory||4/15/2010|
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 ...
Pitch here the tent, while the old horse grazes:
By the old hedge-side we'll halt a stage.
It's nigh my last above the daisies:
My next leaf'll be man's blank page.
Yes, my old girl! and it's no use crying:
Juggler, constable, king, must bow.
One that outjuggles all's been spying
Long to have me, and he has me now.