Let Fate do her worst, there are relics of joy, Bright dreams of the past, which she can not destroy; Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care, And bring back the features that joy used to wear. Long, long be my heart with such memories filled! Like the vase , in which roses have once been distilled You may break, you may shatter the vase , you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO BE LIKED BY YOU WOULD BE A CALAMITY by MARIANNE MOORE THE DEAD PAN by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE SOLDIER GOING TO THE FIELD by WILLIAM DAVENANT LITTLE BILLEE by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY THE DIREFUL TALE OF HORROR by BERTON BRALEY |