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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. 



George Meredith


George Meredith's other poems:
  1. Modern Love. Sonnet 24. The Misery is Greater, as I Live!
  2. On Como
  3. Empdeocles
  4. Hawarden
  5. Alternation


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