Poems by George Meredith
Modern Love XIII: I Play for Seasons, Not Eternities
... 'So must All those whose stake is nothing more than dust!' ...
Modern Love XIX: No State Is Enviable
... Great God! the maddest gambler throws his heart ...
Modern Love XL: I Bade My Lady Think
... She breathed the violet breath of maidenhood ...
Modern Love XLI: How Many a Thing
... How rare from their own instinct 'tis to feel! ...
Modern Love XLII: I Am to Follow Her
... Her wrists I catch: she faltering, as she half resists, ...
Modern Love XLIII: Mark Where the Pressing Wind
... Here where the ponderous breakers plunge and strike, ...
Modern Love XLIV: They Say That Pity
... Never, she cries, shall Pity soothe Love's thirst, ...
Modern Love XLIX: He Found Her
... She took his hand, and walked with him, and seemed ...
Modern Love XLV: It Is the Season
... Her whims Bid her demand the flower, which I let drop ...
Modern Love XLVII: We Saw the Swallows
... Love that had robbed us so, thus blessed our dearth! ...
Modern Love XLVIII: Their Sense
... Behold! I looked for peace, and thought it near ...
Modern Love XV: I Think She Sleeps
... Frights not our modern dames:--well if he did! ...
Modern Love XVII: At Dinner She Is Hostess
... Dear guests, you now have seen Love's corpse-light shine ...
Modern Love XVIII: Here Jack and Tom
... Whence flows one nut-brown stream, commands the joints ...
Modern Love XXI: We Three Are
... is convinced That words of wedded lovers must bring good ...
