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Famous Short Memory Poems

Famous Short Memory Poems. Short Memory Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Memory short poems

Other Short Poem Pages

More great short poems below.

Memory | Short Famous Poems and Poets

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by Emily Dickinson

Blossoms will run away

 Blossoms will run away,
Cakes reign but a Day,
But Memory like Melody
Is pink Eternally.


by Emily Dickinson

When Memory is full

 When Memory is full
Put on the perfect Lid --
This Morning's finest syllable
Presumptuous Evening said --


by Emily Dickinson

No Passenger was known to flee --

 No Passenger was known to flee --
That lodged a night in memory --
That wily -- subterranean Inn
Contrives that none go out again --


by Gerard Manley Hopkins

The Wreck Of The Deutschland

 To the 
happy memory of five Franciscan Nuns 
exiles by the Falk Laws 
drowned between midnight and morning of 
Dec.
7th.
1875


by Emily Dickinson

To flee from memory

 To flee from memory
Had we the Wings
Many would fly
Inured to slower things
Birds with surprise
Would scan the cowering Van
Of men escaping
From the mind of man


by Carl Sandburg

Two

 Memory of you is .
.
.
a blue spear of flower.
I cannot remember the name of it.
Alongside a bold dripping poppy is fire and silk.
And they cover you.


by Omar Khayyam

O Friends! meet together (after my death). Once reunited,

O Friends! meet together [after my death]. Once reunited,
rejoice in being together and, when the cupbearer
takes in his hand a cup of old wine, remember poor
Khayyam and drink to his memory.
327


by Emily Dickinson

To be forgot by thee

 To be forgot by thee
Surpasses Memory
Of other minds
The Heart cannot forget
Unless it contemplate
What it declines
I was regarded then
Raised from oblivion
A single time
To be remembered what --
Worthy to be forgot
Is my renown


by Omar Khayyam

Enumerate my good qualities one by one; my faults,

Enumerate my good qualities one by one; my faults,
pass by in tens. Pardon each sin committed for the love
of God. Fan not the fire of hatred by the breath of
passion, pardon, rather, in memory of the tomb of the
Prophet of God [Mohammed].


by Emily Dickinson

There is a pain -- so utter --

 There is a pain -- so utter --
It swallows substance up --
Then covers the Abyss with Trance --
So Memory can step
Around -- across -- upon it --
As one within a Swoon --
Goes safely -- where an open eye --
Would drop Him -- Bone by Bone.


by Omar Khayyam

O my soul! drink this limpid nectar which has not

O my soul! drink this limpid nectar which has not
been stirred; drink it in memory of the charming idols
which ravish the heart. Wine is the blood of the vine,
my friend, and the vine says to thee: Drink of me,
since I render it lawful to you.
331


by Yehuda Amichai

My Father

 The memory of my father is wrapped up in
white paper, like sandwiches taken for a day at work.
Just as a magician takes towers and rabbits out of his hat, he drew love from his small body, and the rivers of his hands overflowed with good deeds.


by Omar Khayyam

Since at this moment there only remains to you the

Since at this moment there only remains to you the
memory of pleasure passed away; since for a perfect friend
you have only a cup of wine; finally, since that is all you
own, rejoice at least in this possession and let the cup
not slip from your hands.


by Omar Khayyam

Become not a prey to sorrow in this world of iniquity;

Become not a prey to sorrow in this world of iniquity;
recall not to thy soul the memory of those who are no
longer here; give up thy heart only to a friend with sweet
lips and fairy-like in form and never be deprived of
wine, or throw life to the winds.


by Walter Savage Landor

Do you Remember me? or are you Proud?

 "Do you remember me? or are you proud?"
Lightly advancing thro' her star-trimm'd crowd,
Ianthe said, and lookt into my eyes,
"A yes, a yes, to both: for Memory
Where you but once have been must ever be,
And at your voice Pride from his throne must rise.
"


by Walter Savage Landor

Ianthes Question

 ‘Do you remember me? or are you proud?’
Lightly advancing thro’ her star-trimm’d crowd,
Ianthe said, and look’d into my eyes.
‘A yes, a yes to both: for Memory Where you but once have been must ever be, And at your voice Pride from his throne must rise.


by William Strode

On A Register For A Bible

 I am the faythfull deputy
Unto your fading memory.
Your Index long in search doth hold; Your folded wrinkles make books olde: But I the Scripture open plaine, And what you heard soone teach againe: By mee the Welchman well may bring Himselfe to Heaven in a string.


by Percy Bysshe Shelley

To

 Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory - 
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.


by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Music When Soft Voices Die

 Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory -- 
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.


by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Music when soft voices die

MUSIC when soft voices die  
Vibrates in the memory; 
Odours when sweet violets sicken  
Live within the sense they quicken; 

Rose leaves when the rose is dead 5 
Are heap'd for the belov¨¨d's bed: 
And so thy thoughts when thou art gone  
Love itself shall slumber on.


by Emily Dickinson

After a hundred years

 After a hundred years
Nobody knows the Place
Agony that enacted there
Motionless as Peace

Weeds triumphant ranged
Strangers strolled and spelled
At the lone Orthography
Of the Elder Dead

Winds of Summer Fields
Recollect the way --
Instinct picking up the Key
Dropped by memory --


by Donald Justice

On The Death Of Friends In Childhood

 We shall not ever meet them bearded in heaven
Nor sunning themselves among the bald of hell;
If anywhere, in the deserted schoolyard at twilight,
forming a ring, perhaps, or joining hands
In games whose very names we have forgotten.
Come memory, let us seek them there in the shadows.


by Omar Khayyam

I am in continual war with my passions, but what can

I am in continual war with my passions, but what can
I do? The memory of my deeds causes me a thousand
regrets, but what can I do? I admit that in Thy clemency
Thou mayest pardon my faults, but the shame of
knowing that Thou knowest what I have done, that shame
will remain, and what can I do?


by Emily Dickinson

A Cloud withdrew from the Sky

 A Cloud withdrew from the Sky
Superior Glory be
But that Cloud and its Auxiliaries
Are forever lost to me

Had I but further scanned
Had I secured the Glow
In an Hermetic Memory
It had availed me now.
Never to pass the Angel With a glance and a Bow Till I am firm in Heaven Is my intention now.


by Thomas Hardy

How Great My Grief (Triolet)

 How great my grief, my joys how few, 
Since first it was my fate to know thee! 
- Have the slow years not brought to view 
How great my grief, my joys how few, 
Nor memory shaped old times anew, 
 Nor loving-kindness helped to show thee 
How great my grief, my joys how few, 
 Since first it was my fate to know thee?


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