EDITH, it seems to me life is so brief That half of joy doth lie in memory, Like a bird singing that we cannot see, Like a pale flower folded in a leaf, Is memory. Something we have, yet cannot touch nor hold, That once has been, yet never more will be; Like moonlight shadows on a Summer sea, Like many clouds which many stars unfold, Is memory. Life is so short! It is a little sleep, And all joys leave us, swift as swallows flee ... When these days pass, so dear to you and me, Yet half their joy, my friend, we still may keep Through memory. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPAIN IN AMERICA by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE FAERY FOREST by SARA TEASDALE THE HEMLOCK by EMILY DICKINSON RETREAT by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON HAIL COLUMBIA by JOSEPH HOPKINSON AFTERMATH by SIEGFRIED SASSOON IDYLLS OF THE KING: THE MARRIAGE OF GERAINT by ALFRED TENNYSON |