Poem by George Meredith

Atkins

Yonder's the man with his life in his hand,
Legs on the march for whatever the land,
Or to the slaughter, or to the maiming,
Getting the dole of a dog for pay.
Laurels he clasps in the words 'duty done,'
England his heart under every sun:-
Exquisite humour! that gives him a naming
Base to the ear as an ass's bray. 

1. A Ballad of Past Meridian
2. Alternation
3. At the Funeral
4. Modern Love. Sonnet 31. This Golden Head has Wit in it
5. Modern Love. Sonnet 27. Distraction is the Panacea, Sir!

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