Poems by George Meredith Volume Ii Part 16

- What thinks your friend, kind sir? We have escaped But partly that old half-tamed wild beast's paw Whereunder woman, the weak thing, was shaped: Men, too, have known the cramping enemy In grim brute force, whom force of brain shall awe: Him our deliverer, await we!

XXIX

- Delusions are with eloquence endowed, And yours might pluck an angel from the spheres To play in this revolt whereto you are vowed, Deliverer, lady! but like summer dew O'er fields that crack for rain your friends drop tears, Who see the awakening for you.

x.x.x

- Is he our friend, there silent? he weeps not.

O sir, delusion mounting like a sun On a mind blank as the white wife of Lot, Giving it warmth and movement! if this be Delusion, think of what thereby was won For men, and dream of what win we.

x.x.xI

- Lady, the destiny of minor powers, Who would recast us, is but to convulse: You enter on a strife that frets and sours; You can but win sick disappointment's hue; And simply an accelerated pulse, Some tonic you have drunk moves you.

x.x.xII

- Thinks your friend so? Good sir, your wit is bright; But wit that strives to speak the popular voice, Puts on its nightcap and puts out its light.

Curfew, would seem your conqueror's decree To women likewise: and we have no choice Save darkness or rebellion, we!

x.x.xIII

- A plain safe intermediate way is cleft By reason foiling pa.s.sion: you that rave Of mad alternatives to right and left Echo the tempter, madam: and 'tis due Unto your s.e.x to shun it as the grave, This later apple offered you.

x.x.xIV

- This apple is not ripe, it is not sweet; Nor rosy, sir, nor golden: eye and mouth Are little wooed by it; yet we would eat.

We are somewhat tired of Eden, is our plea.

We have thirsted long; this apple suits our drouth: 'Tis good for men to halve, think we.

x.x.xV

- But say, what seek you, madam? 'Tis enough That you should have dominion o'er the springs Domestic and man's heart: those ways, how rough, How vile, outside the stately avenue Where you walk sheltered by your angel's wings, Are happily unknown to you.

x.x.xVI

- We hear women's shrieks on them. We like your phrase, Dominion domestic! And that roar, 'What seek you?' is of tyrants in all days.

Sir, get you something of our purity And we will of your strength: we ask no more.

That is the sum of what seek we.

x.x.xVII

- O for an image, madam, in one word, To show you as the lightning night reveals, Your error and your perils: you have erred In mind only, and the perils that ensue Swift heels may soften; wherefore to swift heels Address your hopes of safety you!

x.x.xVIII

- To err in mind, sir . . . your friend smiles: he may!

To err in mind, if err in mind we can, Is grievous error you do well to stay.

But O how different from reality Men's fiction is! how like you in the plan, Is woman, knew you her as we!

x.x.xIX

- Look, lady, where yon river winds its line Toward sunset, and receives on breast and face The splendour of fair life: to be divine, 'Tis nature bids you be to nature true, Flowing with beauty, lending earth your grace, Reflecting heaven in clearness you.

XL

- Sir, you speak well: your friend no word vouchsafes.

To flow with beauty, breeding fools and worse, Cowards and worse: at such fair life she chafes, Who is not wholly of the nursery, Nor of your schools: we share the primal curse; Together shake it off, say we!

XLI

- Hear, then, my friend, madam! Tongue-restrained he stands Till words are thoughts, and thoughts, like swords enriched With traceries of the artificer's hands, Are fire-proved steel to cut, fair flowers to view. - Do I hear him? Oh, he is bewitched, bewitched!

Heed him not! Traitress beauties you!

XLII

- We have won a champion, sisters, and a sage!

- Ladies, you win a guest to a good feast!

- Sir spokesman, sneers are weakness veiling rage.

- Of weakness, and wise men, you have the key.

- Then are there fresher mornings mounting East Than ever yet have dawned, sing we!

XLIII

- False ends as false began, madam, be sure!

- What lure there is the pure cause purifies!

- Who purifies the victim of the lure?

- That soul which bids us our high light pursue.

- Some heights are measured down: the wary wise Shun Reason in the masque with you!

XLIV

- Sir, for the friend you bring us, take our thanks.

Yes, Beauty was of old this barren goal; A thing with claws; and brute-like in her pranks!

But could she give more loyal guarantee Than wooing Wisdom, that in her a soul Has risen? Adieu: content are we!

XLV

Those ladies led their captive to the flood's Green edge. He floating with them seemed the most Fool-flushed old noddy ever crowned with buds.

Happier than I! Then, why not wiser too?

For he that lives with Beauty, he may boast His comrade over me and you.

XLVI

Have women nursed some dream since Helen sailed Over the sea of blood the blus.h.i.+ng star, That beauty, whom frail man as G.o.ddess hailed, When not possessing her (for such is he!), Might in a wondering season seen afar, Be tamed to say not 'I,' but 'we'?

XLVII

And shall they make of Beauty their estate, The fortress and the weapon of their s.e.x?

Shall she in her frost-brilliancy dictate, More queenly than of old, how we must woo, Ere she will melt? The halter's on our necks, Kick as it likes us, I and you.