Poem Lake | Page 2 | The Greatest Poems of All Time

To a Dog’s Memory The Gusty morns are here, When all the reeds ride low with level spear; And on such nights as lured us far of yore, Down rocky alleys yet, and thro’ the pine, The Hound-star and the pagan Hunter shine: But I and thou, ah, field-fellow of mine, ... Poet: Louise Imogen Guiney	Blest Memory From “The Pleasures of Memory” ETHEREAL power! who at the noon of night Recall’st the far fled spirit of delight; From whom that musing, melancholy mood Which charms the wise, and elevates the good; Blest Memory, hail! O grant the grateful muse, ... Poet: Samuel Rogers	Memory and Oblivion From the Greek by Robert Bland ALL hail, Remembrance and Forgetfulness! Trace, Memory, trace whate’er is sweet or kind: When friends forsake us or misfortunes press, Oblivion, ’rase the record from our mind. Poet: Macedonius of Thessalonica	To the Memory of Ben Jonson The Muse’s fairest light in no dark time, The wonder of a learnèd age; the line Which none can pass! the most proportioned wit,— To nature, the best judge of what was fit; The deepest, plainest, highest, clearest pen; The voice most echoed by consenting... Poet: John Cleveland
To the Memory of My Beloved Master, William Shakespeare, and What He Hath Left Us To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name, Am I thus ample to thy book and fame; While I confess thy writings to be such As neither man nor Muse can praise too much.* * * * * Soul of the age! The applause... Poet: Ben Jonson	To the Memory of Thomas Hood Take back into thy bosom, earth, This joyous, May-eyed morrow, The gentlest child that ever mirth Gave to be reared by sorrow! ’T is hard—while rays half green, half gold, Through vernal bowers are burning, And streams their diamond mirrors... Poet: Bartholomew Simmons	In Memory of Walter Savage Landor Back to the flower-town, side by side, The bright months bring, New-born, the bridegroom and the bride, Freedom and spring. The sweet land laughs from sea to sea, Filled full of sun; All things come back to her, being free;... Poet: Algernon Charles Swinburne	Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady WHAT beck'ning ghost, along the moonlight shade Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade? 'Tis she!—but why that bleeding bosom gored, Why dimly gleams the visionary sword? O, ever beauteous, ever friendly! tell... Poet:
In Memory of My Dear Grandchild Elizabeth Bradstreet, Who Deceased August, 1665 Being a Year and a Half Old Farewell dear babe, my heart's too much content, Farewell sweet babe, the pleasure of mine eye, Farewell fair flower that for a space was lent, Then ta'en away unto eternity. Blest babe why should I once bewail thy fate, ... Poet:	Remorse — is Memory — awake — Remorse is memory awake, Her companies astir,--- A presence of departed acts At window and at door. It's past set down before the soul, And lighted with a match, Perusal to facilitate Of... Poet: