Of Memory. From Proverbial Philosophy Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGHIJKLMJNOPQ RDLJSJTULVWXXJMTYZTA 2JATH B2C2BLD2E2F2TLLG2M LTXB TH2TLI2GMJ2TBBLK2JXH 2HL2X M

Where art thou storehouse of the mind gamer of facts and fanciesA
In what strange firmament are laid the beams of thine airy chambersB
Or art thou that small cavern the centre of the rolling brainC
Where still one sandy morsel testifieth man's originalD
Or hast thou some grand globe some common hall of intellectE
Some spacious market place for thought where all do bring their waresF
And gladly rescued from the littleness the narrow closet of a selfG
The privileged soul hath large access coming in the livery of learningH
Live we as isolated worlds perfect in substance and spiritI
Each a sphere with a special mind prisoned in its shell of matterJ
Or rather as converging radiations parts of one majestic wholeK
Beams of the Sun streams from the River branches of the mighty TreeL
Some bearing fruit some bearing leaves and some diseased and barrenM
Some for the feast some for the floor and some how many for the fireJ
Memory may be but a power of coming to the treasury of FactN
A momentary self desertion an absence in spirit from the nowO
An actual coursing hither and thither by the mind slipped from its leashP
A life as in the mystery of dreams spent within the limits of a momentQ
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A brutish man knoweth not this neither can a fool comprehend itR
But there be secrets of the memory deep wondrous and fearfulD
Were I at Petra could I not declare My soul hath been here before meL
Am I strange to the columned halls the calm dead grandeur of PalmyraJ
Know I not thy mount Cannel Have I not voyaged on the DanubeS
Nor seen the glare of Arctic snows nor the black tents of the TartarJ
Is it then a dream that I remember the faces of them of oldT
While wandering in the grove with Plato and listening to Zeno in the porchU
Paul have I seen and Pythagoras and the Stagyrite hath spoken me friendlyL
And His meek eye looked also upon me standing with Peter in the palaceV
Athens and Rome Persepolis and Sparta am I not a freeman of you allW
And chiefly can my yearning heart forget thee O JerusalemX
For the strong magic of conception mingled with the fumes of memoiyX
Giveth me a life in all past time yea and addeth substance to the futureJ
Be ye my judges imaginative minds full fledged to soar into the sunM
Whose grosser natural thoughts the chemistry of wisdom hath sublimedT
Have ye not confessed to a feeling a consciousness strange and vagueY
That ye have gone this way before and walk again your daily lifeZ
Tracking an old routine and on some foreign strandT
Where bodily ye have never stood finding your own footstepsA2
Hath not at times some recent friend looked out an old familiarJ
Some newest circumstance or place teemed as with ancient memoriesA
A startling sudden flash lighteth up all for an instantT
And then it is quenched as in darkness and leaveth the cold spirit tremblingH
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Memory is not wisdom idiots can rote volumesB2
Yet what is wisdom without memory a babe that is strangled in its birthC2
The path of the swallow in the air the path of the dolphan in the watersB
A cask running out a bottomless chasm such is wisdom without memoryL
There be many wise who cannot store their knowledgeD2
Yet from themselves are they satisfied for the fountain is withinE2
There be many who store but have no wisdom of their ownF2
Lumbering their armoury with weapons their muscles cannot liftT
There be many thieves and robbers who glean and store unlawfullyL
Calling in to memory's help some cunningly devised CabalaL
But to feed the mind with fatness to fill thy granary with cornG2
Nor clog with chaff and straw the threshing floor of reasonM
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Reap the ideas and house them well but leave the words high stubbleL
Strive to store up what was thought despising what was saidT
For the mind is a spirit and drinketh in ideas as flame melteth into flameX
But for words it must pack them as on floors cumbrous and perishable merchandizeB
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To be pained for a minute to fear for an hour to hope for a week how long and weary '-
But to remember fourscore years is to look back upon a dayT
An avenue seemeth to lengthen in the eyes of the way faring manH2
But let him turn those stationed elms crowd up within a yardT
Pace the lamp lit streets of some sleeping cityL
The multitude of cressets shall seem one in the false picture of perspectiveI2
Even so in sweet treachery dealeth the aged with himselfG
He gazeth on the green hill tops while the marshes beneath are hiddenM
And the partial telescope of memory pierceth the blank betweenJ2
To look with lingering love at the fan star of childhoodT
Life is as the current spark on the miner's wheel of flintsB
Whiles it spinneth there is light stop it all is darknessB
Life is as a morsel of frankincense burning in the hall of EternityL
It is gone but its odorous cloud curleth to the lofty roofK2
Life is as a lump of salt melting in the temple layerJ
It is gone yet its savour reacheth to the farthest atomX
Even so for evil or for good is life the criterion of a manH2
For its memories of sanctity or sin pervade all the firmament of beingH
There is but the flitting moment wherein to hope or to enjoyL2
But in the calendar of memory that moment is all timeX
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Transcribed from Proverbial Philosophy by Mick Puttock August Spelling punctuation and grammer left mostly unchanged from the th editionM

Martin Farquhar Tupper



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