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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=384486" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Memory's Mansion</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=384486" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">In Memory's Mansion are wonderful rooms,<br>And I wander about them at will;<br>And I pause at the casements, where boxes of blooms<br>Are sending sweet scents o'er the sill.<br>I lean from a window that looks on a lawn;<br>From a turret that looks on the wave.<br>But I draw down the shade when I see on some glade<br>A stone standing guard by a grave.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=384486" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>To Memory's attic I clambered one day<br>When the roof was resounding with rain,<br>And there, among relics long hidden away,<br>I rummaged with heart ache and pain.<br>A hope long surrendered and covered with dust,<br>A pastime, out-grown and forgot,<br>And a fragment of love all corroded with rust,<br>Were lying heaped up in one spot.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=384486" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>And there on the floor of that garret was tossed<br>A friendship too fragile to last,<br>With pieces of dearly bought pleasures that cost<br>Vast fortunes of pain in the past,<br>A fabric of passion, once vivid and bright,<br>As the breast of a robin in Spring,<br>Was spread out before me-a terrible sight-<br>A moth-eaten rag of a thing.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=384486" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>Then down the deep stairway I hurriedly went,<br>And into fair chambers below;<br>But the mansion seemed filled with the old attic scent<br>Wherever my footsteps would go.<br>Though in Memory's House I still wander full oft,<br>No more to the garret I climb;<br>And I leave all the rubbish heaped there in the loft<br>To the hands of the Housekeeper, Time.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Ella+Wheeler+Wilcox">Ella Wheeler Wilcox</a></strong></div>

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