Posted by Mad Mitch on  UTC 2016-02-27 07:12

I saw this:

The crocus lays her cheek to mire.

And thought of this. (Take your time, Meredith's syntax has to be unwound slowly.)

Love born of knowledge, love that gains
Vitality as Earth it mates,
The meaning of the Pleasures, Pains,
The Life, the Death, illuminates.

For love we Earth, then serve we all;
Her mystic secret then is ours:
We fall, or view our treasures fall,
Unclouded, as beholds her flowers

Earth, from a night of frosty wreck,
Enrobed in morning’s mounted fire,
When lowly, with a broken neck,
The crocus lays her cheek to mire.

From George Meredith, A Reading of Earth, 1888, 'The Thrush in February' (excerpt).
Full poem online.

George Meredith

George Meredith (1828-1909), late photo, undated.

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