SO shuts the marigold her leaves <br /> At the departure of the sun; <br />So from the honeysuckle sheaves <br /> The bee goes when the day is done; <br />So sits the turtle when she is but one, <br />And so all woe, as I since she is gone. <br /> <br />To some few birds kind Nature hath <br /> Made all the summer as one day: <br />Which once enjoy'd, cold winter's wrath <br /> As night they sleeping pass away. <br />Those happy creatures are, that know not yet <br />The pain to be deprived or to forget. <br /> <br />I oft have heard men say there be <br /> Some that with confidence profess <br />The helpful Art of Memory: <br /> But could they teach Forgetfulness, <br />I'd learn; and try what further art could do <br />To make me love her and forget her too.<br /><br />William Browne<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/memory-11/
