Poem for the day
To Emilia V -
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 they thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on ...
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 they thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on ...
| Poems on the Underground | |||
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Transport for London
