The greatest note of it is his melancholy.
And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
Hence, all you vain delights,
As short as are the nights
Wherein you spend your folly!
There's nought in this life sweet,
If man were wise to see 't,
But only melancholy,
Oh, sweetest melancholy!
MEMORY
Far from our eyes th' Enchanting Objects set,
Advantage by the friendly Distance get.
I do perceive that the old proverb be not alwaies trew, for I do finde that the absence of my Nath. doth breede in me the more continuall remembrance of him.
Out of sighte, out of mynde.
Tell me the tales that to me were so dear,
Long, long ago, long, long ago.
Oh, I have roamed o'er many lands,
And many friends I've met;
Not one fair scene or kindly smile
Can this fond heart forget.
Thomas Haynes Bayly—0, Steer my Bark to
Erin's Isle.
Friends depart, and memory takes them
To her caverns, pure and deep.
Thomas Haynes Bayly—Teach Me to Forget.
Out of mind as soon as out of sight.
Lord Brooke—Sonnet. LVI.
( ,
| seealso = (See also Bacon)
The mother may forget the child
That smiles sae sweetly on her knee;
But I'll remember thee, Glencairn,
And all that thou hast done for me!
Burns—Lament for Glencairn.
Yet how much less it were to gain,
Though thou hast left me free,
The loveliest tilings that still remain,
Than thus remember thee.
| author = Byron
| work = And fifum art Dead as Young and Fair.
To live in hearts we leave behind,
Is not to die.
Campbell—Hallowed Ground. St. 6.
When promise and patience are wearing thin,
When endurance is almost driven in,
When our angels stand in a waiting hush,
Remember the Marne and Ferdinand Foch.
Bliss Carman—The Man of the Marne.
Though sands be black and bitter black the sea,
Night lie before me and behind me night,
And God within far Heaven refuse to light
The consolation of the dawn for me,—
Between the shadowy burns of Heaven and
Hell,
It is enough love leaves my soul to dwell
With memory.
Madison Cawein—The End of All.
Les souvenirs embellissent la vie, l'oubli seul
la rend possible.
Remembrances embellish life but forgetfulness alone makes it possible.
Gen'l Cialdini—Written in an album.
Memoria est thesaurus omnium rerum e
custos.
Memory is the treasury and guardian of all
things.
Cicero—De Oratore. I. 5.
Vita enim mortuorum in memoria vivorum est
posita.
The life of the dead is placed in the memory
of the living.
Cicero—Philippicce. IX. 5.
Oh, how cruelly sweet are the echoes that start
When Memory plays an old tune on the heart!
Eliza Cook—Journal. Vol. IV. Old Dobbin.
St. 16.
What peaceful hours I once enjoy'd!
How sweet their memory still!
But they have left an aching void
The world can never fill.
| author = Cowper
| work = Walking with God.
Don't you remember, sweet Alice, Ben Bolt?
Sweet Alice, whose hair was so brown;
Who wept with delight when you gave her a
smile,
And trembl'd with fear at your frown!
Thomas Dunn English—Ben Bolt.
But woe to him, who left to moan,
Reviews the hours of brightness gone.
Euripides—Iphigenia in Taurus. L. 1121.
Trans, by Anstice.
Memory [is] like a purse,—if it be over-full
that it cannot shut, all will drop out of it. Take
heed of a gluttonous curiosity to feed on many
things, lest the greediness of the appetite of thy
memory spoil the digestion thereof.
Fuller—Holy and Profane States. Bk. III.
Of Memory.
