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Poem by George Meredith


Modern Love. Sonnet 11. Out in the Yellow Meadows


Out in the yellow meadows, where the bee
Hums by us with the honey of Spring,
And showers of sweet notes from the larks on wing,
Are dropping like a noon-dew, wander we.
Or is it now? or was it then? for now,
As then, the larks from running rings pour showers:
The golden foot of May is on the flowers,
And friendly shadows dance upon her brow.
What's this, when Nature swears there is no change
To challange eyesight? Now, as then, the grace
Of heaven seems holding earth in its embrace.
Nor eyes, nor heart, has she to feel it strange?
Look, woman, in the West. There wilt thou see
An amber cradle near the sun's decline:
Within it, featured even in death divine,
Is lying a dead infant, slain by thee.



George Meredith


George Meredith's other poems:
  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. On Como


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