Читать книгу Poems. Volume 3 - George Meredith - Страница 5

   Love is winged for two,

   In the worst he weathers,

   When their hearts are tied;

   But if they divide,

   O too true!

Cracks a globe, and feathers, feathers,

Feathers all the ground bestrew.

I was breast of morning sea,

Rosy plume on forest dun,

I the laugh in rainy fleeces,

   While with me

   She made one.

Now must we pick up our pieces,

For that then so winged were we.