Poem by George Meredith

Modern Love. Sonnet 29. Am I Failing?

Am I failing? For no longer can I cast
A glory round about this head of gold.
Glory she wears, but springing from the mold;
Not like the consecration of the Past!
Is my soul beggared? Something more than earth
I cry for still; I cannot be at peace
In having Love upon a mortal lease.
I cannot take the woman at her worth!
Where is the ancient wealth wherewith I clothed
Our human nakedness, and could endow
With spiritual splendor a white brow
That else had grinned at me the fact I loathed?
A kiss is but a kiss now! and no wave
Of a great flood that whirls me to the sea.
But, as you will! we'll sit contentedly,
And eat our pot of honey on the grave. 

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

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