Death poems
/ page 120 of 560 /
Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 1.
© William Cowper
Adam, arise, since I do thee impart
A spirit warm from my benignant breath:
Arise, arise, first man,
And joyous let the world
Embrace its living miniature in thee!
On The Conduct Of The World Seeking Beauty Against Government
© Allen Ginsberg
Is that the only way we can become like Indians, like Rhinoceri,
like Quartz Crystals, like organic farmers, like what we imagine
The Grave-Digger
© Emile Verhaeren
In the garden yonder of yews and death,
There sojourneth
A man who toils, and has toiled for aye.
Digging the dried-up ground all day.
Sonnets LLXXI:LXXII:LXXIII: The Choice
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
I
Eat thou and drink; to-morrow thou shalt die.
Improvisations: Light And Snow: 12
© Conrad Aiken
How many times have we been interrupted
Just as I was about to make up a story for you!
The Blessing
© Charles Baudelaire
Since I must be chosen among all women that are
To bear the lifetime's grudge of a sullen husband,
And since I cannot get rid of this caricature,
-Fling it away like old letters to be burned,
North Wind
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
LOUD wind, strong wind, sweeping o'er the mountains,
Fresh wind, free wind, blowing from the sea,
Pour forth thy vials like streams from airy fountains,
Draughts of life to me.
Italy : 33. The Campagna Of Rome
© Samuel Rogers
Have none appeared as tillers of the ground,
None since They went -- as though it still were theirs,
And they might come and claim their own again?
Was the last plough a Roman's?
A Post-Impression
© Alfred Noyes
He sat with his foolish mouth agape at the golden glare of the sea,
And his wizened and wintry flaxen locks fluttered around his ears,
And his foolish infinite eyes were full of the sky's own glitter and glee,
As he dandled an old Dutch Doll on his knee and sang the song of the spheres.
The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto XI.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
II
This learn'd I, watching where she danced,
Native to melody and light,
And now and then toward me glanced,
Pleased, as I hoped, to please my sight.
Since We Must Die
© Alfred Austin
Though we must die, I would not die
When fields are brown and bleak,
To Death
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Tremble, ye proud, whose grandeur mocks the woe
Which props the column of unnatural state!
You the plainings, faint and low,
From Miserys tortured soul that flow,
Shall usher to your fate.
A Pastoral Between Thirsis And Corydon, Upon The Death Of Damon, By Whom Is Meant Mr. W. Riddell
© James Thomson
Thir.
Say, tell me true, what is the doleful cause
That Corydon is not the man he was?
Your cheerful presence used to lighten cares,
Death
© Rabindranath Tagore
O thou the last fulfilment of life,
Death, my death, come and whisper to me!
The Skeleton In Armour
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Speak! speak! thou fearful guest!
Who, with thy hollow breast
The Hours
© Arthur Symons
Why is it that the hour of the clock
Points to the hour behind, before,
Never the perfect hour whose stroke
My soul heard strike, and waited for?
