By every remove I only drag a greater length of chain.
Remembrance wakes with all her busy train,
Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain.
Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see,
My heart untravell'd fondly turns to thee;
Still to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain,
And drags at each remove a lengthening chain.
A place in thy memory, Dearest!
Is all that I claim:
To pause and look back when thou hearest
The sound of my name.
Gerald Griffin—A Place in Thy Memory.
Fer from eze, fer from herte,
Quoth Hendyng.
Hendyng—Proverbs, MSS. (Circa 1320)
| seealso = (See also Bacon)
| topic =
| page =
}}
{{Hoyt quote
| num =
| text = <poem>So may it be: that so dead Yesterday,
No sad-eyed ghost but generous and gay,
May serve you memories like almighty wine,
When you are old.
Henley—When You Are Old.
I remember, I remember,
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon,
Nor brought too long a day,
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away!
Where is the heart that doth not keep,
Within its inmost core,
Some fond remembrance hidden deep,
Of days that are no more?
' Ellen C. Howarth—'Tis but a Little Faded
Flower.
And when he is out of sight, quickly also is he
.out of mind.
Thos. a Kempis—Imitation of Christ. Bk. I.
Ch. XXIII.
| seealso = (See also Bacon)
| topic =
| page =
}}
{{Hoyt quote
| num =
| text = <poem>Badness of memory every one complains of,
but nobody of the want of judgment.
La Rochefoucauld—Reflections and Moral
Maxims. No. 463.
Tho' lost to sight to mem'ry dear
Thou ever wilt remain.
Geo. Linley—uwugh Lost to Sight. First
line found as an axiom in Monthly Magazine,
Jan., 1827. Horace F. Cutler published
a poem with same refrain, calling himself
"Ruthven Jenkyns," crediting its publication in a fictitious magazine, Greenwich Mag.
for Marines, 1707. (Hoax.) It appeared in
Mrs. Mary Sherwood's novel, The Nun.
Same idea in | author = Pope
| work = Epistle to Robert, Earl
of Oxford, and Earl Mortimer.
Though lost to sight to memory dear
The absent claim a sigh, the dead a tear. ,
Sir David Dundas offered 5 shillings during
his life (1799-1877) to any one who could
produce the origin of this first line. See
Notes and Queries, Oct. 21, 1916. P. 336.
Dem Augen fern dem Herzen ewig nah'.
On a tomb in Dresden, near that of Von
Weber's. See Notes and Queries, March 27,
1909. P. 249.
| seealso = (See also Bacon, Rider)
| topic =
| page =
}}
{{Hoyt quote
| num =
| text = <poem>I recollect a nurse called Ann,
Who carried me about the grass,
And one fine day a fine young man
Came up and kissed the pretty lass.
She did not make the least objection.
Thinks I, "Aha,
When I can talk I'll tell Mama,"
And that's my earliest recollection.
Fred. Locker-Lampson—A Terrible Infant.
The leaves of memory seemed to make
A mournful rustling in the dark.
| author = Longfellow
| work = The Fire of Drift-Wood.
The heart hath its own memory, like the mind,
And in it are enshrined
The precious keepsakes, into which is wrought
The giver's loving thought.
| author = Longfellow
| work = From My Arm-Chair, St. 12.
This memory brightens o'er the past,
As when the sun concealed
Behind some cloud that near us hangs,
Shines on a distant field.
| author = Longfellow
| work = A Gleam of Sunshine.
There comes to me out of the Past
A voice, whose tones are sweet and wild,
Singing a song almost divine,
And with a tear in every line.
| author = Longfellow
| work = Tales of a Wayside Inn. Pt. III. Interlude before "The Mother's Ghost."
Nothing now is left
But a majestic memory.
| author = Longfellow
| work = Three Friends of Mine. L. 10.
is Wakes the bitter memory
Of what he was, what is, and what must be
Worse.
| author = Milton
| work = Paradise Lost.
| place = Bk. IV. L. 24.
II se veoid par experience, que les memoires
excellentes se joignent volontiers aux jugements
debiles.
Experience teaches that a good memory is
generally joined to a weak judgment.
Montaigne—Essays. I. 9.
To live with them is far less sweet
Than to remember thee!
Moore—/ Saw Thy Form in Youthful Prime.
