- Percy Shelly, Romanticism poet,

Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory —
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved’s bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.


the rose which resembles the lover, might wither and die,

but,

And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,

Love itself shall slumber on.

memories stay, and linger around us as love itself will always be there with or without that person around.

okay i know, i am indeed a very hopeless romantic person ! cewah !