Death poems
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Diet Song
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Well breakfast black coffee one slice of dry toast no butter no jelly no jam
Lunch just some lettuce two celery stalks no booze no potatoes no ham
Dinner one chicken wing broiled not fried no gravy no biscuits no pie
And this dietin' dietin' dietin' dietin' sure is a rough way to die
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. The Sicilian's Tale; The Monk of Casal-Maggiore
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Once on a time, some centuries ago,
In the hot sunshine two Franciscan friars
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Musician's Tale; The Saga of King Olaf IV. -- Queen Sigrid The
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Queen Sigrid the Haughty sat proud and aloft
In her chamber, that looked over meadow and croft.
Heart's dearest,
Why dost thou sorrow so?
Deaths Genius
© Johannes Carsten Hauch
Oh you who weep, brush all your tears aside!
And you who mourn, recall grief wont abide!
For youll know rest when your heart beats no more,
Deaths angel you from all your wounds will cure.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. The Poet's Tale; Charlemagne
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Then came the guard that never knew repose,
The Paladins of France; and at the sight
The Lombard King o'ercome with terror cried:
"This must be Charlemagne!" and as before
Did Olger answer: "No; not yet, not yet."
The Orchard-Pit
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
The Orchard-Pit
Piled deep below the screening apple-branch
They lie with bitter apples in their hands:
And some are only ancient bones that blanch,
And some had ships that last year's wind did launch,
And some were yesterday the lords of lands.
At Dover
© William Lisle Bowles
Thou, whose stern spirit loves the storm,
That, borne on Terror's desolating wings,
Husband And Wife
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
The world had chafed his spirit proud
By its wearing, crushing strife,
The censure of the thoughtless crowd
Had touched a blameless life;
Like the dove of old, from the waters foam,
He wearily turned to the ark of home.
I wouldn't want to die (Je voudrais pas crever)
© Boris Vian
Before having known
The black mexican dogs
A Prayer for the Past: All sights and sounds of day and yea
© George MacDonald
All sights and sounds of day and year,
All groups and forms, each leaf and gem,
Are thine, O God, nor will I fear
To talk to thee of them.
Genesis BK XIX
© Caedmon
(ll. 1217-1224) Then Methuselah held sway among his kinsmen, and
longest of all men enjoyed the pleasures of this world. He begat
a multitude of sons and daughters before his death. And all the
years of Methuselah were nine hundred and seventy winters, and he
died.
Scenes Of The Mind
© Aldous Huxley
I have run where festival was loud
With drum and brass among the crowd
Viva Perpetua
© Archibald Lampman
The night is passing. In a few short hours
I too shall suffer for the name of Christ.
A boundless exaltation lifts my soul!
I know that they who left us, Saturus,
Perpetua, and the other blessed ones,
Await me at the opening gates of heaven.
A Wreath Of Immortelles
© Ambrose Bierce
Judge Sawyer, whom in vain the people tried
To push from power, here is laid aside.
Death only from the bench could ever start
The sluggish load of his immortal part.
Charles Sumner. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fourth)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Garlands upon his grave
And flowers upon his hearse,
And to the tender heart and brave
The tribute of this verse.
The Missionary - Canto Fifth
© William Lisle Bowles
Three years have passed since a fond husband left
Me and this infant, of his love bereft;
Him I have followed; need I tell thee more,
Cast helpless, friendless, hopeless, on this shore.
FromThe Arabic: An Imitation
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
My faint spirit was sitting in the light
Of thy looks, my love;
It panted for thee like the hind at noon
The Ghost-Seer
© James Russell Lowell
Ye who, passing graves by night,
Glance not to the left or right,
To Alexander Pope, Esq.
© Mary Barber
Accept, illustrious Shade! these artless Lays;
My Soul this Homage, to thy Virtue pays:
Led by that sacred Light, a Stranger--Muse
Attempts those Paths, which abler Feet refuse;
In distant Climes thy Virtue she admires,
In distant Climes thy Worth her Strain inspires.
God of Love
© Augustus Montague Toplady
God of love, whose truth and grace
Reach unbounded as the skies,
Hear thy creature's feeble praise,
Let my ev'ning sacrifice
Mount as incense to thy throne,
On the merits of thy Son.
