Poem by George Meredith

Modern Love. Sonnet 32. Full Faith I Have She Holds that Rarest Gift

Full faith I have she holds that rarest gift
To beauty, Common Sense. To see her lie
With her fair visage an inverted sky
Bloom-covered, while the underlids uplift,
Would almost wreck the faith; but when her mouth
(Can it kiss sweetly? sweetly!) would address
The inner me that thirsts for her no less,
And has so long been languishing in drouth,
I feel that I am matched; that I am man!
One restless corner of my heart or head,
That holds a dying something never dead,
Still frets, though Nature giveth all she can.
It means, that woman is not, I opine,
Her sex's antidote. Who seeks the asp
For serpent's bites? 'Twould calm me could I clasp
Shrieking Bacchantes with their souls of wine!

1. Modern Love. Sonnet 38. Give to Imagination
2. Modern Love. Sonnet 16. In our Old Shipwrecked Days
3. Empdeocles
4. Unknown Fair Faces
5. My Theme

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