Death poems
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The Cloud
© Charles Harpur
And oh! she said, that by some act of grace
Twere mine to succour yon fierce-toiling race,
To give the hungry meat, the thirsty drink
The thought of good is very sweet to think.
The Vision Of The Maid Of Orleans - The Third Book
© Robert Southey
The Maiden, musing on the Warrior's words,
Turn'd from the Hall of Glory. Now they reach'd
The Grief Of Love
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Love, I am sick for thee, sick with an absolute grief,
Sick with the thought of thy eyes and lips and bosom.
All the beauty I saw, I see to my hurt revealed.
All that I felt I feel to--day for my pain and sorrow.
The Old Sergeant
© Forceythe Willson
COME a little nearer, Doctor,thank you,let me take the cup:
Draw your chair up,draw it closer,just another little sup!
May be you may think I m better; but I m pretty well used up:
Doctor, youve done all you could do, but I m just a going up!
Genesis BK XVIII
© Caedmon
(ll. 1082-1089) And there was also in that tribe another son of
Lamech, called Tubal Cain, a smith skilled in his craft. He was
the first of all men on the earth to fashion tools of husbandry;
and far and wide the city-dwelling sons of men made use of bronze
and iron.
Remorse
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
"What would you tell me, my child, my child, that once slept a babe on my breast?"
(Do the death bells toll for a passing soul?)
"O mother! my friend is dead, now I stand confessed.
I can strike the stone into flame, make the dark give light,
But I cannot give back to the tiniest bird its flight.
Written For A Gentlewoman In Distress, To Her Grace Adelida, Dutchess Of Shrewsbury.
© Mary Barber
Might I inquire the Reasons of my Fate,
Or with my Maker dare expostulate;
Did I, in prosp'rous Days, despise the Poor,
Or drive the friendless Stranger from my Door?
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part I: To Manon: XIX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
HE PROTESTS, NOTWITHSTANDING, HIS LOVE
To be cast forth from the fair light of heaven
Into the outer darkness and there lie,
Through unrecorded years of agony,
Sonnet LXXXVI: Lost Days
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
The lost days of my life until to-day,
What were they, could I see them on the street
Sonnet LXXXVIII: Hero's Lamp.
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
That lamp thou fill'st in Eros' name to-night,
O Hero, shall the Sestian augurs take
On A Landscape Bt Rubens
© William Lisle Bowles
Nay, let us gaze, ev'n till the sense is full,
Upon the rich creation, shadowed so
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - December
© George MacDonald
1.
I AM a little weary of my life-
The Sea Hounds
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
"There's a hound at the door, Shawn O'Farrell,
There's a hound at the door.
If you take down the bar or the shutter,
I shall see you no more,
I shall see you no more!"
How Sweet The Name Of Jesus Sounds
© John Newton
How sweet the name of Jesus sounds
In a believer's ear?
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear.
The Feast Of Freedom
© Victor Marie Hugo
When the Christians were doomed to the lions of old
By the priest and the praetor, combined to uphold
An idolatrous cause,
Forth they came while the vast Colosseum throughout
Gathered thousands looked on, and they fell 'mid the shout
Of "the People's" applause.
The Empty Purse--A Sermon To Our Later Prodigal Son
© George Meredith
Thy knowledge of women might be surpassed:
As any sad dog's of sweet flesh when he quits
The wayside wandering bone!
No revilings of comrades as ingrates: thee
The tempter, misleader, and criminal (screened
By laws yet barbarous) own.
