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Famous Short Memory Poems. Short Memory Poetry by Famous Poets

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

See also: Best Famous Short Poems | Short Member Poems | Best Short Member Poems | Top 100 Famous Short Poems

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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 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 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 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 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 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?


by Emily Dickinson

That sacred Closet when you sweep --

 That sacred Closet when you sweep --
Entitled "Memory" --
Select a reverential Broom --
And do it silently.
'Twill be a Labor of surprise -- Besides Identity Of other Interlocutors A probability -- August the Dust of that Domain -- Unchallenged -- let it lie -- You cannot supersede itself But it can silence you --


by Vachel Lindsay

Ghosts in Love

 "Tell me, where do ghosts in love 
Find their bridal veils?" 

"If you and I were ghosts in love 
We'd climb the cliffs of Mystery, 
Above the sea of Wails.
I'd trim your gray and streaming hair With veils of Fantasy From the tree of Memory.
'Tis there the ghosts that fall in love Find their bridal veils.
"


by Constantine P Cavafy

Return

 Return often and take me,
beloved sensation, return and take me --
when the memory of the body awakens,
and an old desire runs again through the blood;
when the lips and the skin remember,
and the hands feel as if they touch again.
Return often and take me at night, when the lips and the skin remember.
.
.
.


by Paul Verlaine

Autumn Song

With long sobs
the violin-throbs
of autumn wound
my heart with languorous
and montonous
sound.
Choking and pale When i mind the tale the hours keep, my memory strays down other days and I weep; and I let me go where ill winds blow now here, now there, harried and sped, even as a dead leaf, anywhere.


by Maya Angelou

The Lesson

I keep on dying again.
Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children.
Memory of old tombs, Rotting flesh and worms do Not convince me against The challenge.
The years And cold defeat live deep in Lines along my face.
They dull my eyes, yet I keep on dying, Because I love to live.


by Edwin Arlington Robinson

Boston

 My northern pines are good enough for me, 
But there’s a town my memory uprears— 
A town that always like a friend appears, 
And always in the sunrise by the sea.
And over it, somehow, there seems to be A downward flash of something new and fierce, That ever strives to clear, but never clears The dimness of a charmed antiquity.


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