Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

(23 September 1861 – 25 August 1907)

To Memory - Poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

Strange Power, I know not what thou art,
Murderer or mistress of my heart.
I know I'd rather meet the blow
Of my most unrelenting foe
Than live---as now I live---to be
Slain twenty times a day by thee.

Yet, when I would command thee hence,
Thou mockest at the vain pretence,
Murmuring in mine ear a song
Once loved, alas! forgotten long;
And on my brow I feel a kiss
That I would rather die than miss.

Comments about To Memory by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

  • Susan Williams (7/24/2015 11:40:00 AM)

    Love can be an unwelcome power in our lives, sometimes to the extent that it is abusive, perhaps physically abusive. Interesting and complex piece and an interesting complex woman. (Report) Reply

    27 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • (3/29/2008 8:21:00 PM)

    'And on my brow I feel a kiss, that I would rather die than miss.' -Splendid Memory! (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: kiss, power, song, memory, heart

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002

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