One single line of poetry....

[Clawdy]

that stays with you? Not necessarily your favourite poem but sometimes just one line....for me it's " What will survive of us is love " from the Philip Larkin poem.

Golden lads and girls all must, as chimney sweepers, come to dust - Cymbeline.

On my office door I have The Cathedral Builders - the last line is 'I bloody did that' which I adore.

Why did he think adding meant increase? To me it was dilution.

From Dockery and Son by Philip Larkin.

It refers to a peer having children and Larkin not wanting them. Struck me as such an interesting view when I read it at 16.

Time hates Love, wants Love poor,
But Love spins gold, gold, gold from straw (Carol Ann Duffy)

But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden (Louis Macneice)

She left the web, she left the loom
She made three paces through the room (Tennyson)

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air (Plath)

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame (Hopkins)

But the old man would not so, but slew his son,
And half the seed of Europe, one by one (Owen)

I have spread my dreams under your feet
Tread softly for you tread on my dreams

WB Yeats

It's a verse rather than a line but:

We have tested and tasted too much, lover-
Through a chink too wide there comes in no wonder.
But here in the Advent-darkened room
Where the dry black bread and the sugarless tea
Of penance will charm back the luxury
Of a child's soul, we'll return to Doom
the knowledge we stole but could not use.

Patrick Kavanagh

but the grass will be greener wherever you tend to it...

The bedroom won’t even look at me
Since you left it, it keeps its eyes closed
All it wants to do is sleep
Remembering better times
Trying to lose itself in dreams
It seems like it’s taken the easy way out
But at night
I hear the pillows weeping into the sheets.

Henry Normal
The house is not the same since you left

Yes, more than a line, but since there is little punctuation in this poem, I'm claiming this as a single sentence

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams
W B Yeats 'He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven'

The moving finger writes, and having writ moves on.
Nor all your piety and wit, can call it back or cancel out one word of it.
From the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayam translated by Edmund Fitzgerald.

Finally by Robert Frost...

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.

TS Eliot
The Love Song of Prufrock

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.

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

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.

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.

Ezra Pound

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

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

"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."

"The silver apples of the moon, the golden apples of the sun.."
Yeats -Song of Wandering Aengus.

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

(the Wasteland)

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

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.

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

what remains of us is love

What will survive of us is love, Larkin, sorry