One single line of poetry....

I've had an earworm of "Had I the Heavens' embroidered cloths" - my memory does know the rest of the poem, so why my brain is going round and round the first line only, like a broken record, I don't know.

The Seed Shop

Here in a quiet and dusty room they lie,
Faded as crumbled stone or shifting sand,
Forlorn as ashes, shrivelled, scentless, dry -
Meadows and gardens running through my hand.

In this brown husk a dale of hawthorn dreams;
A cedar in this narrow cell is thrust
That will drink deeply of a century's streams;
These lilies shall make summer on my dust.

Here in their safe and simple house of death,
Sealed in their shells, a million roses leap;
Here I can blow a garden with my breath,
And in my hand a forest lies asleep

Muriel Stuart

Lots of T'S Elliott sticks in my head too - I think it's mainly down to when you read it (late teen stuff is what still rolls round my head 20+ years later)

April is the cruelest month..

Let us go now you and I
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table

I read much of the night, and fly south for the winter

I have heard them singing, each to each
I do not think that they will sing to me

I find this frenzy insufficient reason
For conversation when we meet again

Dame Edna St Vincent Millay

Who also wrote the infamous

My candle burns at both ends
It will not last the night
But ah my foes - and ah my friends - it gives a lovely light

It's not that she's my favourite poet but the lunes just stick in your head -and the first one is striking for being written by a woman born in the 19th century!

Because I couldn't stop for death
He kindly stopped for me

Also sticks in the head for some reason, as do a lot of slightly melodramatic Stevie Smith lines, like Not waving but Drowning.

Too many to write them all but...

There was poison in the cup
Let me not ask
From whose hand it came

Don't know who wrote it

Was it for this the clay grew tall?
Oh what made fatuous sunbeams toil
To break earth's sleep at all?

Wilfred Owen

And the last one

Gone is the brother I loved like no other
Who once did share my pillow,

Death is nothing at all,
I have only slipped into the next room,

Henry Scott Holland

ah, hadn't clocked that was in the opening post

I learnt all these poems at school and usually only remember the opening lines:

Faster than fairies, faster than witches,
Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;
And charging along like troops in a battle,
All through the meadows the horses and cattle:Robert Louis Stevenson

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree: Samuel Taylor Coleridge

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies; Lord Byron

To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune, Shakespeare

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, Shakespeare

Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving? Gerald Manley Hopkins

What will survive of us is love, Larkin, sorry

what remains of us is love

For four days warred he with the tide
Then the waves flowed above him and he died.

Another short poem

With Annie gone
No eyes to compare with the morning sun.
Not that I did compare
But I do compare
Now that she's gone.

Clawdy - I like your chosen line too because of the irony that so many people think that Larkin is praising the eternity of love when in fact he is commenting on the fact that that is what people believe when they look at the couple on the tomb because "Time has transfigured them into/Untruth".

Excellent analysis of it here

by the waters of Leman St./I sat down and wept

(the Wasteland)

"and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue."

• Pablo Neruda, Sonnet 11.

And the original Spanish:

"y hambriento vengo y voy olfateando el crepúsculo
buscándote, buscando tu corazón caliente
como un puma en la soledad de Quitratúe."

If I should die/think only this of me/that there is some corner of a foreign field/that is forever England

Ezra Pound

'THEapparition of these faces in the crowd;Petals on a wet, black bough.'

So very many, but the one that has stuck the most is the first line of The Planters Daughter, I know someone above mentioned the 2 verse.

When night stirred at sea
And the fire brought a crowd in
They say that her beauty
Was music in mouth.

21 words, but so very many images brought to mind.

Not one but four, from Tennyson's Tithonus:

Here at the quiet limit of the world,
A white-hair'd shadow roaming like a dream
The ever-silent spaces of the East,
Far-folded mists, and gleaming halls of morn.

Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

Rupert Brooke - heartbreakingly poignant

But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;

Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

Both from "Sailing to Byzantium" WB Yeats. I even love the title.

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.

TS Eliot
The Love Song of Prufrock

Finally by Robert Frost...