Death poems
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What Is Life?
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Resembles Life what once was held of Light,
Too ample in itself for human sight?
An absolute Self--an element ungrounded--
All, that we see, all colours of all shade
La Solitude De St. Amant /La Solitude A Alcidon /
© Katherine Philips
1
O! Solitude, my sweetest choice
Places devoted to the night,
Remote from tumult, and from noise,
False Alarm
© Boris Pasternak
From early morning-nonsense
With tubs and troughs and strain,
With dampness in the evening
And sunsets in the rain.
Night in Camp
© Herbert Bashford
FIERCE burns our fire of driftwood; overhead
Gaunt maples lift arms against the night;
The Prisoner Of Chillon
© George Gordon Byron
Sonnet on Chillon
Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind!
Nathan The Wise - Act I
© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
O Nathan, Nathan,
How miserable you had nigh become
During this little absence; for your house -
To A Certain Nation
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
We will not let thee be, for thou art ours.
We thank thee still, though thou forget these things,
For that hour's sake when thou didst wake all powers
With a great cry that God was sick of kings.
An Epitaph on the Death of Nicholas Grimald
© Barnabe Googe
A thousand doltish geese we might have spared,
A thousand witless heads death might have found,
A taken them for whom no man had cared,
And laid them low in deep oblivious ground:
But fortune favors fool, as old men say,
And lets them live, and takes the wise away.
At A Vacation Exercise In The Colledge, Part Latin, Part English. The Latin Speeches Ended, The Eng
© John Milton
Then Ens is represented as Father of the Predicaments his ten
Sons, whereof the Eldest stood for Substance with his Canons,
which Ens thus speaking, explains.
Seventeen
© Robert Nichols
All the loud winds were in the garden wood,
All shadows joyfuller than lissom hounds
The Man Who Saw
© William Watson
The master weavers at the enchanted loom
Of Legend, weaving long ago those tales
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XXII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
You know the story of my birth, the name
Which I inherited for good and ill,
The secret of my father's fame and shame,
His tragedy and death on that dark hill.
To A Wind-Flower
© Madison Julius Cawein
Teach me the secret of thy loveliness,
That, being made wise, I may aspire to be
As beautiful in thought, and so express
Immortal truths to earth's mortality;
Though to my soul ability be less
Than 'tis to thee, O sweet anemone.
Gautama
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
All life, he taught, hath been, all life must be
Accursed! the gift of demons! All delight
Lies at the far-off goal of pulseless peace.
"Pray," sighed he, "that this breath of men shall cease;
Our hell is earth, our heaven eternal night;
Our only godhead vague Nonentity!"
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto III.
© George Gordon Byron
I.
Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child!
The Almighty Conqueror.
© Mather Byles
I.
Awake my Heart, awake my Tongue,
Sound each melodious String;
In num'rous Verse and lofty Song,
To thee, my GOD, I sing.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. The Spanish Jew's Tale; Azrael
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
King Solomon, before his palace gate
At evening, on the pavement tessellate
Charles Harpur
© Henry Kendall
So let him sleep, the rugged hymns
And broken lights of woods above him!
And let me sing how sorrow dims
The eyes of those that used to love him.
