George Meredith

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

George Meredith Poems

161. Phoebus With Admetus 1/4/2003
162. Pictures Of The Rhine 4/15/2010
163. Poetry 4/15/2010
164. Progress 4/15/2010
165. Requiem 4/15/2010
166. Seed-Time 4/15/2010
167. Sense And Spirit 4/15/2010
168. Shemselnihar 4/15/2010
169. Society 4/15/2010
170. Solon 4/15/2010
171. Song (Untitled #10) 4/15/2010
172. Song (Untitled #11) 4/15/2010
173. Song (Untitled #12) 4/15/2010
174. Song (Untitled #13) 4/15/2010
175. Song (Untitled #2) 4/15/2010
176. Song (Untitled #3) 4/15/2010
177. Song (Untitled #4) 4/15/2010
178. Song (Untitled #5) 4/15/2010
179. Song (Untitled #6) 4/15/2010
180. Song (Untitled #7) 4/15/2010
181. Song (Untitled #8) 4/15/2010
182. Song (Untitled #9) 4/15/2010
183. Song (Untitled#1) 4/15/2010
184. Song In The Songless 1/3/2003
185. Song--Autumn 4/15/2010
186. Song--Spring 4/15/2010
187. Sorrow And Joys 4/15/2010
188. South-West Wind In The Woodland 4/15/2010
189. Sunrise 4/15/2010
190. Tardy Spring 4/15/2010
191. The Appeasement Of Demeter 4/15/2010
192. The Beggar's Soliloquy 4/15/2010
193. The Burden Of Strength 4/15/2010
194. The Cageing Of Ares 4/15/2010
195. The Call 4/15/2010
196. The Century Of Garibaldi 4/15/2010
197. The Crisis 4/15/2010
198. The Crown Of Love 4/15/2010
199. The Day Of The Daughter Of Hades 4/15/2010
200. The Death Of Winter 4/15/2010
Best Poem of George Meredith

Lucifer In Starlight

On a starred night Prince Lucifer uprose.
Tired of his dark dominion swung the fiend
Above the rolling ball in cloud part screened,
Where sinners hugged their spectre of repose.
Poor prey to his hot fit of pride were those.
And now upon his western wing he leaned,
Now his huge bulk o'er Afric's sands careened,
Now the black planet shadowed Arctic snows.
Soaring through wider zones that pricked his scars
With memory of the old revolt from Awe,
He reached a middle height, and at the stars,
Which are the brain of heaven, he looked, and sank.
Around the ancient ...

Read the full of Lucifer In Starlight

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.

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