Death poems
/ page 119 of 560 /The Voyage Of St. Brendan A.D. 545 - The Voyage
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
At length the long-expected morning came,
When from the opening arms of that wild bay,
Beneath the hill that bears my humble name,
Over the waves we took our untracked way;
On The Day Of The Destruction Of Jerusalem By Titus
© George Gordon Byron
From the last hill that looks on thy once holy dome,
I beheld thee, oh Sion! when render'd to Rome:
'Twas thy last sun went down, and the flames of thy fall
Flash'd back on the last glance I gave to thy wall.
Lines To W. L. While He Sang A Song To Purcell's Music
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
While my young cheek retains its healthful hues,
And I have many friends who hold me dear;
L----! methinks, I would not often hear
Such melodies as thine, lest I should lose
Hymn VI. Behold! th' Ambassador Divine
© John Logan
Behold! th' Ambassador Divine,
Descending from above,
To publish to mankind the law
Of everlasting love!
"Until Her Death."
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
UNTIL her death!" the words read strange yet real,
Like things afar off suddenly brought near:--
Will it be slow or speedy, full of fear,
Or calm as a spent day of peace ideal?
II.
Laus Deo
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
IN the hall the coffin waits, and the idle armourer stands.
At his belt the coffin nails, and the hammer in his hands.
The First Booke Of Qvodlibets
© Robert Hayman
Though my best lines no dainty things affords,
My worst haue in them some thing else then words.
Story-Time
© Edgar Albert Guest
"TELL us a story," comes the cry
From little lips when nights are cold,
The Brus Book XVIII
© John Barbour
[Edward Bruce marches toward Dundalk; he debates whether to fight]
Bot he that rest anoyit ay
The Fugitives
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
The waters are flashing,
The white hail is dashing,
The lightnings are glancing,
The hoar-spray is dancing—
Away!
The Bees and Flies
© Rudyard Kipling
The egregious rustic put to death
A bull by stopping of its breath,
Disposed the carcass in a shed
With fragrant herbs and branches spread,
And, having well performed the charm,
Sat down to wait the promised swarm.
Miners
© Wilfred Owen
There was a whispering in my hearth,
A sigh of the coal.
Grown wistful of a former earth
It might recall.
The Curse of Mother Flood
© Henry Kendall
Wizened the wood is, and wan is the way through it;
White as a corpse is the face of the fen;
The Poisoned Arrow
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
All wounded sore he lay upon my path,
His piteous moans his woeful need confessed;
A Man And His Image
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
All day the nations climb and crawl and pray
In one long pilgrimage to one white shrine,
Where sleeps a saint whose pardon, like his peace,
Is wide as death, as common, as divine.
"Give Us A Call!"
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Give us a call! We keep good beer,
Wine, and brandy, and whiskey here;
To Garibaldi--With a Book
© George MacDonald
When at Philippi, he who would have freed
Great Rome from tyrants, for the season brief
An Epistle To George William Curtis
© James Russell Lowell
Curtis, whose Wit, with Fancy arm in arm,
Masks half its muscle in its skill to charm,
The Two Ships
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
On the sea of life they floated,
Brothers twain in manhood's pride,
Book First [Introduction-Childhood and School Time]
© William Wordsworth
OH there is blessing in this gentle breeze,
A visitant that while it fans my cheek