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Modern Love XVI: In Our Old Shipwrecked Days

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Written by George Meredith

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 In our old shipwrecked days there was an hour,
When in the firelight steadily aglow,
Joined slackly, we beheld the red chasm grow
Among the clicking coals.
Our library-bower That eve was left to us: and hushed we sat As lovers to whom Time is whispering.
From sudden-opened doors we heard them sing: The nodding elders mixed good wine with chat.
Well knew we that Life's greatest treasure lay With us, and of it was our talk.
"Ah, yes! Love dies!" I said: I never thought it less.
She yearned to me that sentence to unsay.
Then when the fire domed blackening, I found Her cheek was salt against my kiss, and swift Up the sharp scale of sobs her breast did lift:-- Now am I haunted by that taste! that sound!


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