SO shuts the marigold her leaves
At the departure of the sun;
So from the honeysuckle sheaves
The bee goes when the day is done;
So sits the turtle when she is but one,
And so all woe, as I since she is gone.
To some few birds kind Nature hath
Made all the summer as one day:
Which once enjoy'd, cold winter's wrath
As night they sleeping pass away.
Those happy creatures are, that know not yet
The pain to be deprived or to forget.
I oft have heard men say there be
Some that with confidence profess
The helpful Art of Memory:
But could they teach Forgetfulness,
I'd learn; and try what further art could do
To make me love her and forget her too.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Memory by William Browne )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- Fettered Birds By Bijay Kant Dubey, Bijay Kant Dubey
- Flash Fiction, Jose Armando Guzman
- Age-erasing Strategy .... [PERSONAL GRO.., Bri Edwards
- Thoughts, Alfred Barna
- two green tomatoes smashed in the street.., Mandolyn ...
- Your Home., Kala Cain
- An Exotic Song, Kawa Karpo
- Worshiping with Deer, Bill Grace
- Serves Right, Pradip Chattopadhyay
- To My Best Enemy, Electric Lady