Poems by George Meredith Volume Iii Part 21

Within my breast they touch a string, They wake a sigh.

There is but sound of sedges dry; In me they sing.

THE BURDEN OF STRENGTH

If that thou hast the gift of strength, then know Thy part is to uplift the trodden low; Else in a giant's grasp until the end A hopeless wrestler shall thy soul contend.

THE MAIN REGRET

[Written for the Charing Cross Alb.u.m]

I

Seen, too clear and historic within us, our sins of omission Frown when the Autumn days strike us all ruthlessly bare.

They of our mortal diseases find never healing physician; Errors they of the soul, past the one hope to repair.

II

Suns.h.i.+ne might we have been unto seed under soil, or have scattered Seed to ascendant suns brighter than any that shone.

Even the limp-legged beggar a sick desperado has flattered Back to a half-sloughed life cheered by the mere human tone.

ALTERNATION

Between the fountain and the rill I pa.s.sed, and saw the mighty will To leap at sky; the careless run, As earth would lead her little son.

Beneath them throbs an urgent well, That here is play, and there is war.

I know not which had most to tell Of whence we spring and what we are.

FOREST HISTORY

I

Beneath the vans of doom did men pa.s.s in.

Heroic who came out; for round them hung A wavering phantom's red volcano tongue, With league-long lizard tail and fishy fin:

II

Old Earth's original Dragon; there retired To his last fastness; overthrown by few.

Him a laborious thrust of roadway slew.

Then man to play devorant straight was fired.

III

More intimate became the forest fear While pillared darkness hatched malicious life At either elbow, wolf or gnome or knife And wary slid the glance from ear to ear.

IV

In chillness, like a clouded lantern-ray, The forest's heart of fog on mossed mora.s.s, On purple pool and silky cotton-gra.s.s, Revealed where lured the swallower byway.

V

Dead outlook, flattened back with hard rebound Off walls of distance, left each mounted height.

It seemed a giant hag-fiend, churning spite Of humble human being, held the ground.

VI

Through friendless wastes, through treacherous woodland, slow The feet sustained by track of feet pursued Pained steps, and found the common brotherhood By sign of Heaven indifferent, Nature foe.

VII

Anon a mason's work amazed the sight, And long-frocked men, called Brothers, there abode.

They pointed up, bowed head, and dug and sowed; Whereof was shelter, loaf, and warm firelight.

VIII

What words they taught were nails to scratch the head.

Benignant works explained the chanting brood.

Their monastery lit black solitude, As one might think a star that heavenward led.

IX

Uprose a fairer nest for weary feet, Like some gold flower nightly inward curled, Where gentle maidens fled a roaring world, Or played with it, and had their white retreat.

X

Into big books of metal clasps they pored.

They governed, even as men; they welcomed lays.

The treasures women are whose aim is praise, Was shown in them: the Garden half restored.

XI

A deluge billow scoured the land off seas, With widened jaws, and slaughter was its foam.

For food, for clothing, ambush, refuge, home, The lesser savage offered bogs and trees.