George Meredith

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

George Meredith Poems

81. Seed-Time 4/15/2010
82. Breath Of The Briar 4/14/2010
83. Earth's Secret 4/14/2010
84. England Before The Storm 4/14/2010
85. Invitation To The Country 4/14/2010
86. M. M. 4/14/2010
87. Modern Love Xlv: It Is The Season 1/3/2003
88. Men And Man 4/15/2010
89. Hymn To Colour 4/14/2010
90. John Lackland 4/14/2010
91. Gordon Of Khartoum 4/14/2010
92. Continued - Ii 4/14/2010
93. Sunrise 4/15/2010
94. Tardy Spring 4/15/2010
95. Sorrow And Joys 4/15/2010
96. Song (Untitled#1) 4/15/2010
97. Song (Untitled #7) 4/15/2010
98. Camelus Saltat 4/14/2010
99. Forest History 4/14/2010
100. Milton--December 9, 1608: December 9, 1908 4/15/2010
101. Margaret's Bridal Eve 4/14/2010
102. Love Is Winged For Two 4/14/2010
103. Ireland 4/14/2010
104. Modern Love Xix: No State Is Enviable 1/3/2003
105. Modern Love Xlii: I Am To Follow Her 1/3/2003
106. Modern Love Xliii: Mark Where The Pressing Wind 1/3/2003
107. Modern Love Xlvi: At Last We Parley 1/3/2003
108. Modern Love Xl: I Bade My Lady Think 1/3/2003
109. Modern Love Xli: How Many A Thing 1/3/2003
110. Clash In Arms Of The Achaians And Trojans 4/14/2010
111. By The Rosanna--To F.M. Stanzer Thal, Tyrol 4/14/2010
112. The Crisis 4/15/2010
113. Internal Harmony 4/14/2010
114. Song (Untitled #13) 4/15/2010
115. Napoleon 4/15/2010
116. The Day Of The Daughter Of Hades 4/15/2010
117. Joy Is Fleet 4/14/2010
118. Grace And Love 4/14/2010
119. Islet The Dachs 4/14/2010
120. Marshalling Of The Achaians 4/14/2010

Comments about George Meredith

  • Azad Bongobasi Azad Bongobasi (4/16/2015 2:05:00 AM)

    hello poet, I like your poem. from bangladesh

    1 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
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

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.

[Report Error]