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Poem by George Meredith


Modern Love. Sonnet 38. Give to Imagination


Give to imagination some pure light
In human form to fix it, or you shame
The devils with that hideous human game:--
Imagination urging appetite!
Thus fallen have earth's greatest Gogmagogs,
Who dazzle us, whom we can not revere:
Imagination is the charioteer
That, in default of better, drives the hogs.
So, therefore, my dear Lady, let me love!
My soul is arrowy to the light in you.
You know me that I never can renew
The bond that woman broke: what would you have?
'Tis Love, or Vileness! not a choice between,
Save petrifaction! What does Pity here?
She killed a thing, and now it's dead, 'tis dear.
Oh, when you counsel me, think what you mean!



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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