George Meredith (Джордж Мередит)

Modern Love. Sonnet 2. It Ended

It ended, and the morrow brought the task.
Her eyes were guilty gates, that let him in
By shutting all too zealous for their sin:
Each sucked a secret, and each wore a mask.
But, oh, the bitter taste her beauty had!
He sickened as at breath of poison-flowers:
A languid humour stole among the hours,
And if their smiles encountered, he went mad,
And raged deep inward, till the light was brown
Before his vision, and the world forgot,
Looked wicked as some old dull murder-spot.
A star with lurid beams, she seemed to crown
The pit of infamy: and then again
He fained on his vengefulness, and strove
To ape the magnanimity of love,
And smote himself, a shuddering heap of pain.

1. Modern Love. Sonnet 38. Give to Imagination
2. Modern Love. Sonnet 40. I Bade my Lady Think what She Might Mean
3. Modern Love. Sonnet 16. In our Old Shipwrecked Days
4. Empdeocles
5. Unknown Fair Faces

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