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Poem by George Meredith


Modern Love. Sonnet 6. It Chanced His Lips did Meet Her Forehead Cool


It chanced his lips did meet her forehead cool.
She had no blush, but slanted down her eye.
Shamed nature, then, confesses love can die:
And most she punishes the tender fool
Who will believe what honours her the most!
Dead! is it dead? She has a pulse, and flow
Of tears, the price of blood-drops, as I know,
For whom the midnight sobs around Love's ghost,
Since then I heard her, and so will sob on.
The love is here; it has but changed its aim.
O bitter barren woman! what's the name?
The name, the name, the new name thou hast won?
Behold me striking the world's coward stroke!
That will I not do, thought the sting is dire.
-- Beneath the surface this, while by the fire
They sat, she laughing at a quiet joke.



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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