Echoes and Memories
Philip Evergood
Woman at the Piano
Echoes and Memories
Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory-
Odors, 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.
~ Percy Bysshe Shelley ~
Labels: Book 4, Death, Love, Memory, Percy Bysshe Shelley, Philip Evergood, Separation, Time
posted by John Brewer at
5:21 PM
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