Death poems
/ page 12 of 560 /Flight into Reality
© Rowley Rosemarie
Dedicated to the memory of my best friend Georgina, (1942-74)and to her husband Alex Burns and their childrenNulles laides amours ne belles prison -Lord Herbert of Cherbury
The House of Life: The Sonnet
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
A Sonnet is a moment's monument, Memorial from the Soul's eternity To one dead deathless hour
His Mother's Service to Our Lady
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Lady of Heaven and earth, and therewithalCrowned Empress of the nether clefts of Hell,I, thy poor Christian, on thy name do call,Commending me to thee, with thee to dwell,Albeit in nought I be commendable
Mortality
© Roberts Theodore Goodridge
A little strife--and oh! the long forgetting. A gust of cheering--and the frozen breath.A day of singing--and a night of silence. An hour for living--and an age for death.
The Iceberg
© Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
I was spawned from the glacier,A thousand miles due northBeyond Cape Chidley;And the spawning,When my vast, wallowing bulk went under,Emerged and heaved aloft,Shaking down cataracts from its rocking sides,With mountainous surge and thunderOutraged the silence of the Arctic sea
The Great and Little Weavers
© Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
The great and the little weavers,They neither rest nor sleep.They work in the height and the glory,They toil in the dark and the deep.
Ave! (An Ode for the Shelley Centenary, 1892)
© Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
I Wide marshes ever washed in clearest air,Whether beneath the sole and spectral star The dear severity of dawn you wear,Or whether in the joy of ample day And speechless ecstasy of growing JuneYou lie and dream the long blue hours away Till nightfall comes too soon,Or whether, naked to the unstarred night,You strike with wondering awe my inward sight, --
II Go forth to you with longing, though the yearsThat turn not back like your returning streams And fain would mist the memory with tears,Though the inexorable years deny My feet the fellowship of your deep grass,O'er which, as o'er another, tenderer sky, Cloud phantoms drift and pass, --You know my confident love, since first, a child,Amid your wastes of green I wandered wild
White Flock
© Anna Akhmatova
Copyright Anna Akhmatova
Copyright English translation by Ilya Shambat (ilya_shambat@yahoo.com)
Origin: http://www.geocities.com/ilya_shambat/akhmatova.html
Stones from Ashbourn Churchyard
© Reibetanz John
Jesse Quantrill, MillerThe toll taken, the grist drest:Here the bran, the flour with Christ.
Iris Holden, District Nurse
© Reibetanz John
`Love's mysteries in souls do grow,But yet the body is his book.'
Eyethurl
© Reibetanz John
Sometimes, at night,when the north wind slams against the houseand downpipes shudder and whistle,I climb steep attic steps to findheart in a blank window.
Daily Bread
© Reibetanz John
We have cried often when we have given them the little victualling wehad to give them; we had to shake them, and they have fallen to sleepwith the victuals in their mouths many a time
Ampersand
© Reibetanz John
'He thought it had only been put thereto finish off th' alphabet, like, thoughampus-and (&) would ha' done as well.' (George Eliot: Adam Bede)
To a Lady with an Unruly and Ill-mannered Dog Who Bit several Persons of Importance
© Raleigh Walter Alexander
Your dog is not a dog of grace;He does not wag the tail or beg;He bit Miss Dickson in the face;He bit a Bailie in the leg.
The Passionate Man's Pilgrimage
© Ralegh Sir Walter
[Supposed to be written by one at the point of death]
The Iliad, Book XII
© Alexander Pope
Furious he spoke, and rushing to the wall,Calls on his host; his host obey the call;With ardour follow where their leader flies:Redoubling clamours thunder in the skies