Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/992

 GEORGE MEREDITH

I never could have made it half so sure,

As by the unblest kisses which upbraid

The full-waked sense; or failing that, degrade!

'Tis morning: but no morning can restore

What we have forfeited. I see no sin:

The wrong is mix'd. In tragic life, God wot,

No villain need be! Passions spin the plot.

We are betray 'd by what is false within.

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��786 Lucifer in Starlight

a starr'd night Prince Lucifer uprose. Tired of his dark dominion swung the fiend

Above the rolling ball in cloud part screen'd, Where sinners hugg'd their spectre of repose. Poor prey to his hot fit of pride were those.

And now upon his western wing he lean'd,

Now his huge bulk o'er Afric's sands careen'd, Now the black planet shadow'd Arctic snows. Soaring through wider zones that prick 'd his scars

With memory of the old revolt from Awe, He reached a middle height, and at the stars, Which are the brain of heaven, he look'd, and sank. Around the ancient track march'd, rank on rank,

The army of unalterable law.

Dirge in Woods

WIND sways the pines, And below

Not a breath of wild air; Still as the mosses that glow On the flooring and over the lines Of the roots here and there.

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