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The true art of memory is the art of attention.
The true art of memory is the art of attention.
But woe to him, who left to moan,
Reviews the hours of brightness gone.
But woe to him, who left to moan,
Reviews the hours of brightness gone.
Oh, how cruelly sweet are the echoes that start
When Memory plays an old tune on the heart!
Oh, how cruelly sweet are the echoes that start
When Memory plays an old tune on the heart!
To be remembered after we are dead, is but poor recompense for being treated with contempt while we are living.
To be remembered after we are dead, is but poor recompense for being treated with contempt while we are living.
No memory is ever alone; it's at the end of a trail of memories, a dozen trails that each have read more
No memory is ever alone; it's at the end of a trail of memories, a dozen trails that each have their own associations.
Yet how much less it were to gain,
Though thou hast left me free,
The loveliest things read more
Yet how much less it were to gain,
Though thou hast left me free,
The loveliest things that still remain,
Than thus remember thee.
If you have to keep reminding yourself of a thing, perhaps it isn't so.
If you have to keep reminding yourself of a thing, perhaps it isn't so.
Friends depart, and memory takes them
To her caverns, pure and deep.
Friends depart, and memory takes them
To her caverns, pure and deep.
To live in hearts we leave behind,
Is not to die.
To live in hearts we leave behind,
Is not to die.
