Poem by George Meredith

* * *

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. 

1. Modern Love. Sonnet 41. How Many a Thing which We Cast to the Ground
2. King Harald's Trance
3. Mother to Babe
4. Modern Love. Sonnet 38. Give to Imagination
5. Nature and Life

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