George Meredith (Джордж Мередит)

* * *

Love is winged for two,
In the worst he weathers,
When their hearts are tied;
But if they divide,
O too true!
Cracks a globe, and feathers, feathers,
Feathers all the ground bestrew.

I was breast of morning sea,
Rosy plume on forest dun,
I the laugh in rainy fleeces,
While with me
She made one.
Now must we pick up our pieces,
For that then so winged were we. 

1. Modern Love. Sonnet 23. 'Tis Christmas Weather
2. Modern Love. Sonnet 8. Yet it was Plain She Struggled, and that Salt
3. Modern Love. Sonnet 46. At Last We Parley
4. A Ballad of Past Meridian
5. Modern Love. Sonnet 27. Distraction is the Panacea, Sir!

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