Author: George Meredith

I am not of those miserable males Who sniff at vice and, daring not to snap, Do therefore hope for […]

In our old shipwrecked days there was an hour, When in the firelight steadily aglow, Joined slackly, we beheld the […]

All other joys of life he strove to warm, And magnify, and catch them to his lip: But they had […]

Not solely that the Future she destroys, And the fair life which in the distance lies For all men, beckoning […]

What may the woman labour to confess? There is about her mouth a nervous twitch. ‘Tis something to be told, […]

You like not that French novel? Tell me why. You think it quite unnatural. Let us see. The actors are, […]

At dinner, she is hostess, I am host. Went the feast ever cheerfuller? She keeps The Topic over intellectual deeps […]

By this he knew she wept with waking eyes: That, at his hand’s light quiver by her head, The strange […]

It is the season of the sweet wild rose, My Lady’s emblem in the heart of me! So golden-crownèd shines […]

It chanced his lips did meet her forehead cool. She had no blush, but slanted down her eye. Shamed nature, […]