Poem by George Meredith

* * *

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. Angela Burdett-Coutts
2. Modern Love. Sonnet 31. This Golden Head has Wit in it
3. My Theme
4. Modern Love. Sonnet 27. Distraction is the Panacea, Sir!
5. King Harald's Trance

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