George Meredith

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

George Meredith Poems

201. The Discipline Of Wisdom 4/15/2010
202. The Doe: A Fragment (From Wandering Willie) 4/15/2010
203. The Emperor Frederick Of Our Time 4/15/2010
204. The Empty Purse--A Sermon To Our Later Prodigal Son 4/15/2010
205. The Flower Of The Ruins 4/15/2010
206. The Garden Of Epicurus 4/15/2010
207. The Head Of Bran The Blest 4/15/2010
208. The Horses Of Achilles 4/15/2010
209. The Hueless Love 4/15/2010
210. The Invective Of Achilles 4/15/2010
211. The Invective Of Achilles--V. 225 4/15/2010
212. The Labourer 4/15/2010
213. The Lady C. M. 4/15/2010
214. The Lark Ascending 4/15/2010
215. The Last Contention 4/15/2010
216. The Lesson Of Grief 4/15/2010
217. The Longest Day 4/15/2010
218. The Main Regret 4/15/2010
219. The Mares Of The Camargue 4/15/2010
220. The Meeting 4/15/2010
221. The Night-Walk 4/15/2010
222. The Nuptials Of Attila 4/15/2010
223. The Old Chartist 4/15/2010
224. The Olive Branch 4/15/2010
225. The Orchard And The Heath 4/15/2010
226. The Patriot Engineer 4/15/2010
227. The Poetry Of Chaucer 4/15/2010
228. The Poetry Of Coleridge 4/15/2010
229. The Poetry Of Keats 4/15/2010
230. The Poetry Of Milton 4/15/2010
231. The Poetry Of Shakespeare 4/15/2010
232. The Poetry Of Shelley 4/15/2010
233. The Poetry Of Southey 4/15/2010
234. The Poetry Of Spenser 4/15/2010
235. The Poetry Of Wordsworth 4/15/2010
236. The Point Of Taste 4/15/2010
237. The Promise In Disturbance 4/15/2010
238. The Question Whither 4/15/2010
239. The Rape Of Aurora 4/15/2010
240. The Revolution 4/15/2010
Best Poem of George Meredith

Modern Love L: Thus Piteously Love

Thus piteously Love closed what he begat:
The union of this ever-diverse pair!
These two were rapid falcons in a snare,
Condemned to do the flitting of the bat.
Lovers beneath the singing sky of May,
They wandered once; clear as the dew on flowers:
But they fed not on the advancing hours:
Their hearts held cravings for the buried day.
Then each applied to each that fatal knife,
Deep questioning, which probes to endless dole.
Ah, what a dusty answer gets the soul
When hot for certainties in this our life!--
In tragic hints here see what evermore
Moves dark...

Read the full of Modern Love L: Thus Piteously Love

Juggling Jerry

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.

[Hata Bildir]