George Meredith (Джордж Мередит)

Modern Love. Sonnet 40. I Bade my Lady Think what She Might Mean

I bade my Lady think what she might mean.
Know I my meaning, I? Can I love one,
And yet be jealous of another? None
Commits such folly. Terrible Love, I ween,
Has might, even dead, half sighing to upheave
The lightless seas of selfishness amain:
Seas that in a man's heart have no rain
To fall and still them. Peace can I achieve
By turning to this fountain-source of woe,
This woman, who's to Love as fire to wood?
She breathed the violet breath of maidenhood
Against my kisses once! but I say, No!
The thing is mocked at! Helplessly afloat,
I know not what I do, whereto I strive,
The dread that my old love may be alive,
Has seized my nursling new love by the throat.

1. Mother to Babe
2. On Como
3. Modern Love. Sonnet 19. No State is Enviable
4. Modern Love. Sonnet 12. Not Solely that the Future She Destroys
5. Modern Love. Sonnet 20. I am not of those Miserable Males

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