Poem by George Meredith

Modern Love. Sonnet 13. I Play for Seasons

'I play for Seasons; not Eternities!'
Says Nature, laughing on her way. 'So must
All those whose stake is nothing more than dust!'
And lo, she wins, and of her harmonies
She is full sure! Upon her dying rose,
She drops a look of fondness, and goes by,
Scarce any retrospection in her eye;
For she the laws of growth most deeply knows,
Whose hands bear, here, a seed-bag -- there, an urn.
Pledges she herself to aught, 'twould mark her end!
This lesson of our only visible friend,
Can we not teach our foolish hearts to learn?
Yes! yes! -- but, oh, our human rose is fair
Surpassingly! Lose calmly Love's great bliss,
When the renewed for ever of a kiss
Whirls life within the shower of loosened hair!

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. Unknown Fair Faces

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