How can it be that I forget The way he phrased my doom, When I recall the arabesques That carpeted the room? How can it be that I forget His look and mien that hour, When I recall I wore a rose, And still can smell the flower? How can it be that I forget Those words that were the last, When I recall the tune a man Was whistling as he passed? These things are what we keep from life's Supremest joy or pain; For Memory locks her chaff in bins And throws away the grain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER THE RAIN by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH VICTORY BELLS by GRACE HAZARD CONKLING THE WORLD-SOUL by RALPH WALDO EMERSON SONG OF SHERWOOD by ALFRED NOYES THE THREE ENEMIES by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI |