George Meredith

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

Modern Love Xxxiv: Madam Would Speak With Me - Poem by George Meredith

Madam would speak with me. So, now it comes:
The Deluge or else Fire! She's well, she thanks
My husbandship. Our chain on silence clanks.
Time leers between, above his twiddling thumbs.
Am I quite well? Most excellent in health!
The journals, too, I diligently peruse.
Vesuvius is expected to give news:
Niagara is no noisier. By stealth
Our eyes dart scrutinizing snakes. She's glad
I'm happy, says her quivering under-lip.
"And are not you?" "How can I be?" "Take ship!
For happiness is somewhere to be had."
"Nowhere for me!" Her voice is barely heard.
I am not melted, and make no pretence.
With commonplace I freeze her, tongue and sense.
Niagara or Vesuvius is deferred.


Comments about Modern Love Xxxiv: Madam Would Speak With Me by George Meredith

  • Brian Jani (5/5/2014 10:21:00 AM)


    Mr Meredith this is a good one keep it up (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: thanks, happiness, silence, happy, fire, snake



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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