Death poems
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On the Death of Stephen Grey, F.R.S.
© Samuel Johnson
The Electrician
Long hast thou borne the burden of the day,
Pill-Box
© Edmund Blunden
Just see what's happening, Worley.-Worley rose
And round the angled doorway thrust his nose,
The Centurion
© Clive Sansom
'Halt! Here's the place. Set down the cross.
You three attend to it. And remember, Marcus,
The blows are struck, the nails are driven
For Roman law and Roman order,
Not for your private satisfaction.
Set to work.'
In The South Pacific
© Mary Hannay Foott
O day, for dawn of thee how prayed
The spirit, sore distressed;
Thy latest beams, upslanting, made
A pathway for the blest.
The Vengeance Of The Goddess Diana
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
The shore sloped upward into foliaged hills,
Cleft by the channels of rock-fretted rills,
That flashed their wavelets, touched by iris lights,
O'er many a tiny cataract down the heights.
To an Antiquated Coquette
© Charles Sackville
Phyllis, if you will not agree
To give me back my liberty,
Theron And Zoe
© Walter Savage Landor
Theron: That, since we sate together lay by day,
And walkt together, sang together, none
Of earliest, gentlest, fondest, maiden friends
Loved you as formerly. If one remain'd
Dearer to you than any of the rest,
You could not wish her greater happiness . .
The Vision Of Augustine And Monica
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Mother, because thine eyes are sealed in sleep,
And thy cheeks pale, and thy lips cold, and deep
In silence plunged, so fathomlessly still
Thou liest, and relaxest all thy will,
Frost
© Madison Julius Cawein
White artist he, who, breezeless nights,
From tingling stars jocosely whirls,
A harlequin in spangled tights,
His wand a pot of pounded pearls.
Love And Liberty
© Horace Smith
The linnet had flown from its cage away,
And flitted and sang in the light of day--
Had flown from the lady who loved it well,
In Liberty's freer air to dwell.
Alas! poor bird, it was soon to prove,
Sweeter than Liberty is Love.
The Improvisatore, Or, 'John Anderson, My Jo, John'
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Eliza. Ask our friend, the Improvisatore ; here he comes. Kate has a favour
to ask of you, Sir ; it is that you will repeat the ballad [Believe me if
all those endearing young charms.-EHC's ? note] that Mr. ____ sang so
sweetly.
By The Grave Of Henry Timrod
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHEN last we parted--thy frail hand in mine--
Above us smiled September's passionless sky,
And touched by fragrant airs, the hillside pine
Thrilled in the mellow sunshine tenderly;
Courage
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
There is a courage, a majestic thing
That springs forth from the brow of pain, full-grown,
Minerva-like, and dares all dangers known,
And all the threatening future yet may bring;
The Dead Look
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
LO! in its still, soft-shrouded place,
The pathos of a death-pale face!
I view the marks of mortal care
Time's hopeless sorrows branded there.
Pity
© William Barnes
Good Meäster Collins! aye, how mild he spoke
Woone day o' Mercy to zome cruel vo'k.
Sleeping And Waking
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
I Had a dream-I lay upon thy breast,
In that sweet place where we lay long ago:
I thought the morning woodbine to and fro
With playful shadows whipped away my rest,
And in my sleep I cried to thee, too blest,
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 2
© Publius Vergilius Maro
ALL were attentive to the godlike man,
When from his lofty couch he thus began:
