Song (Untitled #12)

George Meredith 1828 (Portsmouth, Hampshire) – 1909 (Box Hill, Surrey)



Should thy love die;
O bury it not under ice-blue eyes!
And lips that deny,
With a scornful surprise,
The life it once lived in thy breast when it wore no disguise.

Should thy love die;
O bury it where the sweet wild-flowers blow!
And breezes go by,
With no whisper of woe;
And strange feet cannot guess of the anguish that slumbers below.

Should thy love die;
O wander once more to the haunt of the bee!
Where the foliaged sky
Is most sacred to see,
And thy being first felt its wild birth like a wind-wakened tree.

Should thy love die;
O dissemble it! smile! let the rose hide the thorn!
While the lark sings on high,
And no thing looks forlorn,
Bury it, bury it, bury it where it was born.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

40 sec read
37

Quick analysis:

Scheme Ababb Acacc Adadd Aeaee
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 700
Words 136
Stanzas 4
Stanza Lengths 5, 5, 5, 5

George Meredith

George Meredith was an English novelist and poet of the Victorian era. He was nominated for the Nobel Prize in Literature seven times. more…

All George Meredith poems | George Meredith Books

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