LIKE to a coin, passing from hand to hand, Are common memories, and day by day The sharpness of their impress wears away. But love's remembrances unspoiled withstand The touch of time, as in an antique land Where some proud town old centuries did slay, Intaglios buried lie, still in decay Perfect and precious spite of grinding sand. What fame or joy or sorrow has been ours, What we have hoped or feared, we may forget. The clearness of all memory time deflours, Save that of love alone, persistent yet Though sure oblivion all things else devours, Its tracings firm as when they first were set. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: OAKS TUTT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS FOREFATHERS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN MOTHERHOOD by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY THE INVITATION (TO TOM HUGHES) by CHARLES KINGSLEY GIVE ME THE SPLENDID SILENT SUN by WALT WHITMAN LILIES: 9. BENEATH LOFTIER STARS by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |