Death poems
/ page 106 of 560 /
A Last Word
© Madison Julius Cawein
OH, for some cup of consummating might,
Filled with life's kind conclusion, lost in night!
A wine of darkness, that with death shall cure
This sickness called existence! Oh to find
Hermann and Thusnelda
© Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock
Ha! there comes he, with sweat, with blood of Romans,
And with dust of the fight all stained! O, never
Saw I Hermann so lovely!
Never such fire in his eyes!
What shall it profit?
© William Dean Howells
IF I lay waste and wither up with doubt
The blessed fields of heaven where once my faith
The Dead
© Leon Gellert
These there were, who lost their everything.
Gave all! And left the earth a vaster sphere
The Departure Of St. Patrick From Scotland
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Twice to your son already has the hand of God been shewn,
Restoring him from alien bonds to be once more your own,
And now it is the self--same hand, dear kinsmen, that to--day
Shall take me for the third time from all I love away.
With Stopwatch In Hand
© Karl Kraus
Berlin, 22 September 1916.
On 17 September one of our
submarines sank a fully
loaded enemy troop transport
in the Mediterranean. The
ship went down in 43 seconds.
A Valediction of my Name in the Window
© John Donne
MY name engraved herein
Doth contribute my firmness to this glass,
Which ever since that charm hath been
As hard, as that which graved it was ;
Thine eye will give it price enough, to mock
The diamonds of either rock.
Western Camps
© Roderic Quinn
THREE men stood with their glasses lifted,
Night was around them and flaring lamps:
"Here's to the tried and true and sifted;
Here's to the flotsam tossed and drifted;
The Wild Kangaroo
© Henry Kendall
The rain-clouds have gone to the deep -
The East like a furnace doth glow;
The Maid Of Ocram, Or, Lord Gregory
© John Clare
When you did change your ring for mine
My yielding heart to win,
Though mine was of the beaten gold
Yours but of burnished tin,
Though mine was all true love without,
Yours but false love within?
Verses Addressed To My Two Nephews
© Helen Maria Williams
Resolve to feel that best delight
Reserv'd for those who live aright:
And thus, dear Boys! your tribute pay;
Thus consecrate SAINT HELEN'S DAY!
Night-Bound.
© Robert Crawford
Comes the night that brings me rest,
Comes the dark that folds me in
This of all my nights the best,
Nights of virtue, nights of sin.
The Merchant Ship
© Henry Kendall
The Sun oer the waters was throwing
In the freshness of morning its beams;
The Rabbit Catcher
© Sylvia Plath
It was a place of force
The wind gagging my mouth with my own blown hair,
Tearing off my voice, and the sea
Blinding me with its lights, the lives of the dead
Unreeling in it, spreading like oil.
The Doves
© William Cowper
Reasoning at every step he treads,
Man yet mistakes his way,
While meaner things whom instinct leads
Are rarely known to stray.
Light
© George MacDonald
Dull horrid pools no motion making!
No bubble on the surface breaking!
The dead air lies, without a sound,
Heavy and moveless on the marshy ground.
Spasskoe
© Boris Pasternak
In Spasskoe, unforgettable September sheds its leaves.
Isnt it time to close up the summer-house?
