Chapter I: Front Matter

[Picture: Book cover]

[Picture: The Châlet, Box Hill]

POEMS
VOL. II

BY
GEORGE MEREDITH

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SURREY EDITION

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LONDON
THE TIMES BOOK CLUB
376–384 OXFORD STREET, W.
1912

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Edinburgh: T. and A. Constable, Printers to his Majesty

CONTENTS

PAGE
TO J. M., 1

Let Fate or Insufficiency provide
LINES TO A FRIEND VISITING AMERICA, 2

Now farewell to you! you are
TIME AND SENTIMENT, 11

I see a fair young couple in a wood,
LUCIFER IN STARLIGHT, 12

On a starred night Prince Lucifer uprose
THE STAR SIRIUS, 12

Bright Sirius! that when Orion pales
SENSE AND SPIRIT, 13

The senses loving Earth or well or ill
EARTH’S SECRET, 13

Not solitarily in fields we find
INTERNAL HARMONY, 14

Assured of worthiness we do not dread
GRACE AND LOVE, 14

Two flower-enfolding crystal vases she
APPRECIATION, 15

Earth was not Earth before her sons appeared,
THE DISCIPLINE OF WISDOM, 15

Rich labour is the struggle to be wise
THE STATE OF AGE, 16

Rub thou thy battered lamp: nor claim nor beg
PROGRESS, 16

In Progress you have little faith, say you:
THE WORLD’S ADVANCE, 17

Judge mildly the tasked world; and disincline
A CERTAIN PEOPLE, 17

As Puritans they prominently wax,
THE GARDEN OF EPICURUS, 18

That Garden of sedate Philosophy
A LATER ALEXANDRIAN, 18

An inspiration caught from dubious hues
AN ORSON OF THE MUSE, 19

Her son, albeit the Muse’s livery
THE POINT OF TASTE, 19

Unhappy poets of a sunken prime!
CAMELUS SALTAT, 20

What say you, critic, now you have become
CONTINUED, 20

Oracle of the market! thence you drew
MY THEME, 21

Of me and of my theme think what thou wilt:
CONTINUED, 21

’Tis true the wisdom that my mind exacts
ON THE DANGER OF WAR, 22

Avert, High Wisdom, never vainly wooed,
TO CARDINAL MANNING, 23

I, wakeful for the skylark voice in men,
TO COLONEL CHARLES, 24

An English heart, my commandant,
TO CHILDREN: FOR TYRANTS, 27

Strike not thy dog with a stick!
Poems and Lyrics of the Joy of Earth
THE WOODS OF WESTERMAIN, 33

Enter these enchanted woods,
A BALLAD OF PAST MERIDIAN, 48

Last night returning from my twilight walk
THE DAY OF THE DAUGHTER OF HADES, 49

He who has looked upon Earth
THE LARK ASCENDING, 67

He rises and begins to round,
PHOEBUS WITH ADMETUS, 71

When by Zeus relenting the mandate was revoked,
MELAMPUS, 75

With love exceeding a simple love of the things
LOVE IN THE VALLEY, 80

Under yonder beech-tree single on the greensward,
THE THREE SINGERS TO YOUNG BLOOD, 88

Carols nature, counsel men,
THE ORCHARD AND THE HEATH, 90

I chanced upon an early walk to spy
EARTH AND MAN, 92

On her great venture, Man,
A BALLAD OF FAIR LADIES IN REVOLT, 100

See the sweet women, friend, that lean beneath
Ballads and poems of Tragic Life
THE TWO MASKS, 115

Melpomene among her livid people,
ARCHDUCHESS ANNE, 116
I. In middle age an evil thing
II. Archduchess Anne sat carved in frost
III. Old Kraken read a missive penned
THE SONG OF THEODOLINDA, 133

Queen Theodolind has built
A PREACHING FROM A SPANISH BALLAD, 139

Ladies who in chains of wedlock
THE YOUNG PRINCESS, 144
I. When the South sang like a nightingale
II. The lords of the Court they sighed heart-sick,
III. Lord Dusiote sprang from priest and squire;
IV. The soft night-wind went laden to death
KING HARALD’S TRANCE, 154

Sword in length a reaping-hook amain
WHIMPER OF SYMPATHY, 158

Hawk or shrike has done this deed
YOUNG REYNARD, 159

Gracefullest leaper, the dappled fox-cub
MANFRED, 160

Projected from the bilious Childe,
HERNANI, 161

Cistercians might crack their sides
THE NUPTIALS OF ATTILA, 162

Flat as to an eagle’s eye,
ANEURIN’S HARP, 180

Prince of Bards was old Aneurin;
MEN AND MAN, 186

Men the Angels eyed;
THE LAST CONTENTION, 187

Young captain of a crazy bark!
PERIANDER, 190

How died Melissa none dares shape in words.
SOLON, 195

The Tyrant passed, and friendlier was his eye
BELLEROPHON, 197

Maimed, beggared, grey; seeking an alms; with nod
PHAÉTHÔN, 200

At the coming up of Phoebus the all-luminous
charioteer,
A Reading of Earth
SEED-TIME, 209

Flowers of the willow-herb are wool;
HARD WEATHER, 211

Bursts from a rending East in flaws
THE SOUTH-WESTER, 215

Day of the cloud in fleets! O day
THE THRUSH IN FEBRUARY, 220

I know him, February’s thrush,
THE APPEASEMENT OF DEMETER, 226

Demeter devastated our good land,
EARTH AND A WEDDED WOMAN, 231

The shepherd, with his eye on hazy South,
MOTHER TO BABE, 234

Fleck of sky you are,
WOODLAND PEACE, 235

Sweet as Eden is the air,
THE QUESTION WHITHER, 236

When we have thrown off this old suit,
OUTER AND INNER, 237

From twig to twig the spider weaves
NATURE AND LIFE, 239

Leave the uproar: at a leap
DIRGE IN WOODS, 240

A wind sways the pines,
A FAITH ON TRIAL, 241

On the morning of May,
CHANGE IN RECURRENCE, 260

I stood at the gate of the cot
HYMN TO COLOUR, 261

With Life and Death I walked when Love appeared,
MEDITATION UNDER STARS, 265

What links are ours with orbs that are
WOODMAN AND ECHO, 268

Close Echo hears the woodman’s axe,
THE WISDOM OF ELD, 270

We spend our lives in learning pilotage,
EARTH’S PREFERENCE, 270

Earth loves her young: a preference manifest:
SOCIETY, 271

Historic be the survey of our kind,
WINTER HEAVENS, 271

Sharp is the night, but stars with frost alive
NOTES 272

TO J. M.

LET Fate or Insufficiency provide
Mean ends for men who what they are would be:
Penned in their narrow day no change they see
Save one which strikes the blow to brutes and pride.
Our faith is ours and comes not on a tide:
And whether Earth’s great offspring, by decree,
Must rot if they abjure rapacity,
Not argument but effort shall decide.
They number many heads in that hard flock:
Trim swordsmen they push forth: yet try thy steel.
Thou, fighting for poor humankind, wilt feel
The strength of Roland in thy wrist to hew
A chasm sheer into the barrier rock,
And bring the army of the faithful through.

LINES TO A FRIEND VISITING AMERICA

I

NOW farewell to you! you are
One of my dearest, whom I trust:
Now follow you the Western star,
And cast the old world off as dust.

II

From many friends adieu! adieu!
The quick heart of the word therein.
Much that we hope for hangs with you:
We lose you, but we lose to win.

III

The beggar-king, November, frets:
His tatters rich with Indian dyes
Goes hugging: we our season’s debts
Pay calmly, of the Spring forewise.

IV

We send our worthiest; can no less,
If we would now be read aright,—
To that great people who may bless
Or curse mankind: they have the might.

V

The proudest seasons find their graves,
And we, who would not be wooed, must court.
We have let the blunderers and the waves
Divide us, and the devil had sport.

VI

The blunderers and the waves no more
Shall sever kindred sending forth
Their worthiest from shore to shore
For welcome, bent to prove their worth.

VII

Go you and such as you afloat,
Our lost kinsfellowship to revive.
The battle of the antidote
Is tough, though silent: may you thrive!

VIII

I, when in this North wind I see
The straining red woods blown awry,
Feel shuddering like the winter tree,
All vein and artery on cold sky.

IX

The leaf that clothed me is torn away;
My friend is as a flying seed.
Ay, true; to bring replenished day
Light ebbs, but I am bare, and bleed.

X

What husky habitations seem
These comfortable sayings! they fell,
In some rich year become a dream:—
So cries my heart, the infidel! . . .

XI

Oh! for the strenuous mind in quest,
Arabian visions could not vie
With those broad wonders of the West,
And would I bid you stay? Not I!

XII

The strange experimental land
Where men continually dare take
Niagara leaps;—unshattered stand
’Twixt fall and fall;—for conscience’ sake,

XIII

Drive onward like a flood’s increase;—
Fresh rapids and abysms engage;—
(We live—we die) scorn fireside peace,
And, as a garment, put on rage,

XIV

Rather than bear God’s reprimand,
By rearing on a full fat soil
Concrete of sin and sloth;—this land,
You will observe it coil in coil.

XV

The land has been discover’d long,
The people we have yet to know;
Themselves they know not, save that strong
For good and evil still they grow.

XVI

Nor know they us. Yea, well enough
In that inveterate machine
Through which we speak the printed stuff
Daily, with voice most hugeous, mien

XVII

Tremendous:—as a lion’s show
The grand menagerie paintings hide:
Hear the drum beat, the trombones blow!
The poor old Lion lies inside! . . .

XVIII

It is not England that they hear,
But mighty Mammon’s pipers, trained
To trumpet out his moods, and stir
His sluggish soul: _her_ voice is chained:

XIX

Almost her spirit seems moribund!
O teach them, ’tis not she displays
The panic of a purse rotund,
Eternal dread of evil days,—

XX

That haunting spectre of success
Which shows a heart sunk low in the girths:
Not England answers nobleness,—
‘Live for thyself: thou art not earth’s.’

XXI

Not she, when struggling manhood tries
For freedom, air, a hopefuller fate,
Points out the planet, Compromise,
And shakes a mild reproving pate:

XXII

Says never: ‘I am well at ease,
My sneers upon the weak I shed:
The strong have my cajoleries:
And those beneath my feet I tread.’

XXIII

Nay, but ’tis said for her, great Lord!
The misery’s there! The shameless one
Adjures mankind to sheathe the sword,
Herself not yielding what it won:—

XXIV

Her sermon at cock-crow doth preach,
On sweet Prosperity—or greed.
‘Lo! as the beasts feed, each for each,
God’s blessings let us take, and feed!’

XXV

Ungrateful creatures crave a part—
She tells them firmly she is full;
Lost sheared sheep hurt her tender heart
With bleating, stops her ears with wool:—

XXVI

Seized sometimes by prodigious qualms
(Nightmares of bankruptcy and death),—
Showers down in lumps a load of alms,
Then pants as one who has lost a breath;

XXVII

Believes high heaven, whence favours flow,
Too kind to ask a sacrifice
For what it specially doth bestow;—
Gives _she_, ’tis generous, cheese to mice.

XXVIII

She saw the young Dominion strip
For battle with a grievous wrong,
And curled a noble Norman lip,
And looked with half an eye sidelong;

XXIX

And in stout Saxon wrote her sneers,
Denounced the waste of blood and coin,
Implored the combatants, with tears,
Never to think they could rejoin.

XXX

Oh! was it England that, alas!
Turned sharp the victor to cajole?
Behold her features in the glass:
A monstrous semblance mocks her soul!

XXXI

A false majority, by stealth,
Have got her fast, and sway the rod:
A headless tyrant built of wealth,
The hypocrite, the belly-God.

XXXII

To him the daily hymns they raise:
His tastes are sought: his will is done:
He sniffs the putrid steam of praise,
Place for true England here is none!

XXXIII

But can a distant race discern
The difference ’twixt her and him?
My friend, that will you bid them learn.
He shames and binds her, head and limb.

XXXIV

Old wood has blossoms of this sort.
Though sound at core, she is old wood.
If freemen hate her, one retort
She has; but one!—‘You are my blood.’

XXXV

A poet, half a prophet, rose
In recent days, and called for power.
I love him; but his mountain prose—
His Alp and valley and wild flower—

XXXVI

Proclaimed our weakness, not its source.
What medicine for disease had he?
Whom summoned for a show of force?
Our titular aristocracy!

XXXVII

Why, these are great at City feasts;
From City riches mainly rise:
’Tis well to hear them, when the beasts
That die for us they eulogize!

XXXVIII

But these, of all the liveried crew
Obeisant in Mammon’s walk,
Most deferent ply the facial screw,
The spinal bend, submissive talk.

XXXIX

Small fear that they will run to books
(At least the better form of seed)!
I, too, have hoped from their good looks,
And fables of their Northman breed;—

XL

Have hoped that they the land would head
In acts magnanimous; but, lo,
When fainting heroes beg for bread
They frown: where they are driven they go.

XLI

Good health, my friend! and may your lot
Be cheerful o’er the Western rounds.
This butter-woman’s market-trot
Of verse is passing market-bounds.

XLII

Adieu! the sun sets; he is gone.
On banks of fog faint lines extend:
Adieu! bring back a braver dawn
To England, and to me my friend.

_November_ 15_th_, 1867.

TIME AND SENTIMENT