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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=567502" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On Memory</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">WRITTEN AT AIX-LA-CHAPELLE. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">NO ! this is not the land of Memory,<br>It is not the home where she dwells,<br>Though her wandering, wayward votary<br>Is ever the thrall of her spells;<br>Far off were the fetters woven which bind<br>Still closer and closer the exile's mind!<br>Yet this land was the boast of minstrelsy,<br>Of the song of the Troubadour,<br>Whence Charlemagne led his chivalry<br>To the fields which were fought of yore;<br>Still the eye of Fancy may see them glance,<br>Gilded banner, and quivering lance!<br>But Memory from Fancy turns away,<br>She has wealth of her own to guard;<br>And whisperings come to her ear, which say<br>Sweeter things than the song of the bard:<br>They are solemn and low, and none can hear<br>The whispers which come to Memory's ear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They tell of the dews which brighten'd the way<br>By our earliest footsteps press'd,<br>They tell of the visions, hopeful and gay,<br>Which were born, and which died in the breast;<br>They recall the accents which sweetly spake<br>To the soul, when the soul was first awake.<br>In Memory's land springs never a flower,<br>Nor the lowliest daisy blooms;<br>Ne'er a robin chirps from its russet bower,<br>But to call from their silent tombs<br>The thoughts and things which Time's pitiless sway<br>Has long since swept from the world away!<br>In Memory's land waves never a leaf,<br>There never a summer-breeze blows,<br>But some long smother'd thought of joy or grief<br>Starts up from its solemn repose:<br>And forms are living and visible there<br>Which vanished long since from our earthly sphere.<br>I would not escape from Memory's land<br>For all that the eye can view,<br>For there's dearer dust in Memory's land<br>Than the ore of rich Peru.<br>I clasp the fetter by Memory twin'd<br>The wanderer's heart and soul to bind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Joanna+Baillie">Joanna Baillie</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=567502" data-title="On Memory de Joanna Baillie" data-description="WRITTEN AT AIX-LA-CHAPELLE. 

NO ! this is not the land of Memory,
It is not the home where she dwells,
Though her wandering, wayward votary
Is ever the thrall of her spells;
Far off were the fetters woven which bind
Still closer and closer the ex..."></div>
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