George Meredith 1828 (Portsmouth, Hampshire) – 1909 (Box Hill, Surrey)
It chanced his lips did meet her forehead cool.
She had no blush, but slanted down her eye.
Shamed nature, then, confesses love can die:
And most she punishes the tender fool
Who will believe what honours her the most!
Dead! is it dead? She has a pulse, and flow
Of tears, the price of blood-drops, as I know,
For whom the midnight sobs around Love's ghost,
Since then I heard her, and so will sob on.
The love is here; it has but changed its aim.
O bitter barren woman! what's the name?
The name, the name, the new name thou hast won?
Behold me striking the world's coward stroke!
That will I not do, though the sting is dire.
Beneath the surface this, while by the fire
They sat, she laughing at a quiet joke.
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"Modern Love VI: It Chanced His Lips Did Meet" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 12 Aug. 2020. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/15510/modern-love-vi:-it-chanced-his-lips-did-meet>.