At dinner, she is hostess, I am host.
Went the feast ever cheerfuller? She keeps
The Topic over intellectual deeps
In buoyancy afloat. They see no ghost.
With sparkling surface-eyes we ply the ball:
It is in truth a most contagious game:
Hiding the Skeleton, shall be its name.
Such play as this the devils might appal!
But here's the greater wonder; in that we,
Enamoured of an acting nought can tire,
Each other, like true hypocrites, admire;
Warm-lighted looks, Love's ephemerioe,
Shoot gaily o'er the dishes and the wine.
We waken envy of our happy lot.
Fast, sweet, and golden, shows the marriage-knot.
Dear guests, you now have seen Love's corpse-light shine.
-- George Meredith
Meredith posed for Henry Wallis's painting "The Death of Chatterton" (1856), above.
Methinks the editor has, like me, never quite forgotten his introduction to George Meredith in a certain Modern British Literature course quite a few years ago, where The Egoist opened up some possibilities for what the novel could do that we smarty-pants - at least this one - had never quite thought of.
Thanks for this reminder, David, that Meredith wasn't a bad poet either!
Posted by: James Periconi | July 27, 2019 at 05:22 AM
Is that really Meredith? I've known the picture, an icon of blasted young talent, forever. But I never knew the model for Chatterton was Meredith. Thanks, David.
Posted by: Irene | July 27, 2019 at 07:30 AM
Only on my first cup of coffee, after the last line--"...Love's corpse-light shine.", I am reeling for equilibrium.
I've been to that party but the host was unknown. Thank you for posting George Meredith.
Posted by: Allyson c. Lima | July 27, 2019 at 09:05 AM
You're right, mon vieux.
Posted by: The Best American Poetry | July 27, 2019 at 02:10 PM
Yes, Meredith modeled for it.What a tangled web existed between the Merediths and Mr. Wallis. -- DL
Posted by: The Best American Poetry | July 27, 2019 at 02:11 PM
I know what you mean! "Modern Love" is a great and greatly undervalued work. -- DL
Posted by: The Best American Poetry | July 27, 2019 at 02:11 PM
And whilst we're on the subject of 19th Century poetry at its most inventive, how about next up something from Clough's 'Amours de Voyages'?
Posted by: ALAN WEARNE | July 27, 2019 at 06:10 PM