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Poem by George Meredith


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Love is winged for two,
In the worst he weathers,
When their hearts are tied;
But if they divide,
O too true!
Cracks a globe, and feathers, feathers,
Feathers all the ground bestrew.

I was breast of morning sea,
Rosy plume on forest dun,
I the laugh in rainy fleeces,
While with me
She made one.
Now must we pick up our pieces,
For that then so winged were we. 



George Meredith


George Meredith's other poems:
  1. On Como
  2. My Theme
  3. Modern Love. Sonnet 40. I Bade my Lady Think what She Might Mean
  4. Modern Love. Sonnet 37. Along the Garden Terrace
  5. Modern Love. Sonnet 39. She Yields: my Lady in her Noblest Mood


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