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George Meredith (Джордж Мередит)


Modern Love. Sonnet 24. The Misery is Greater, as I Live!


The misery is greater, as I live!
To know her flesh so pure, so keen her sense,
That she does penance now for no offence,
Save against Love. The less can I forgive!
The less can I forgive, though I adore
That cruel lovely pallor which surrounds
Her footsteps; and the low vibrating sounds
That come on me, as from a magic shore.
Low are they, but most subtle to find out
The shrinking soul. Madam, 'tis understood
When women play upon their womanhood;
It means, a Season gone. And yet I doubt
But I am duped. That nun-like look waylays
My fancy. Oh! I do but wait a sign!
Pluck out the eyes of pride! thy mouth to mine!
Never! though I die thirsting. Go thy ways! 



George Meredith's other poems:
  1. The Call
  2. Modern Love. Sonnet 8. Yet it was Plain She Struggled, and that Salt
  3. Modern Love. Sonnet 33. In Paris, at the Louvre
  4. Modern Love. Sonnet 35. It is no Vulgar Nature
  5. Modern Love. Sonnet 39. She Yields: my Lady in her Noblest Mood


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