Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. V. Browning to Rupert Brooke

George Eliot (Mary Ann Cross) (1819–1880)

Extracts from The Legend of Jubal: The Thought of Death

DEATH was now lord of Life, and at his word

Time, vague as air before, new terrors stirred,

With measured wing now audibly arose

Throbbing through all things to some unknown close.

Now glad Content by clutching Haste was torn,

And Work grew eager, and Device was born.

It seemed the light was never loved before,

Now each man said, “’Twill go and come no more.”

No budding branch, no pebble from the brook,

No form, no shadow, but new dearness took

From the one thought that life must have an end;

And the last parting now began to send

Diffusive dread through love and wedded bliss,

Thrilling them into finer tenderness.

Then Memory disclosed her face divine,

That like the calm nocturnal lights doth shine

Within the soul, and shows the sacred graves,

And shows the presence that no sunlight craves,

No space, no warmth, but moves among them all;

Gone and yet here, and coming at each call,

With ready voice and eyes that understand,

And lips that ask a kiss, and dear responsive hand.