Of what she said to me that night-no matter.
The strange thing came next day.
My brain was full of music-something she played me-;
I couldn't remember it all, but phrases of it
Wreathed and wreathed among faint memories,
Seeking for something, trying to tell me something,
Urging to restlessness: verging on grief.
I tried to play the tune, from memory,-
But memory failed: the chords and discords climbed
And found no resolution-only hung there,
And left me morbid . . . Where, then, had I heard it? . . . (Conrad Aiken)

Of what she said to me that night-no matter. The strange thing came next day. My brain was full of music-something she played me-; I couldn't remember it all, but phrases of it Wreathed and wreathed among faint memories, Seeking for something, trying to tell me something, Urging to restlessness: verging on grief. I tried to play the tune, from memory,- But memory failed: the chords and discords climbed And found no resolution-only hung there, And left me morbid . . . Where, then, had I heard it? . . .

Conrad Aiken

Related topics

brain came day faint found full grief hang left matter memory next play say seeking something strange tell thing trying try tune urging verging restlessness

Related quotes