Death poems
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Intimations
© Madison Julius Cawein
Is it uneasy moonlight,
On the restless field, that stirs?
Or wild white meadow-blossoms
The night-wind bends and blurs?
The Wind In The Hemlock
© Sara Teasdale
STEELY stars and moon of brass,
How mockingly you watch me pass!
You know as well as I how soon
I shall be blind to stars and moon,
Verses, On The Death Of The Same Lady
© Charlotte Turner Smith
LIKE a poor ghost the night I seek;
ts hollow winds repeat my sighs;
The cold dews mingle on my cheek
With tears that wander from mine eyes.
The Nights Remember
© Sara Teasdale
THE days remember and the nights remember
The kingly hours that once you made so great,
Deep in my heart they lie, hidden in their splendor,
Buried like sovereigns in their robes of state.
Here They Trysted, And Here They Strayed
© William Ernest Henley
Here they trysted, here they strayed,
In the leafage dewy and boon,
I know the night no longer
© Odysseas Elytis
I know the night no longer, the terrible anonymity of death
A fleet of stars moors in the haven of my heart
O Hesperos, sentinel, that you may shine by the side
Of a skyblue breeze on an island which dreams
Senex To His Friend
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
YOUR hair is scant, my friend, and mine is scanter,
On heads snowed white by Time, the disenchanter;
In place of joyous beams and jovial twinkles,
Behold, old boy, our faces scored with wrinkles!
The Truce And The Peace
© Robinson Jeffers
(NOVEMBER, 1918)
Peace now for every fury has had her day,
The Moon
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Queen of the silver bow, by thy pale beam
Alone and pensive I delight to stray,
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part IV: Vita Nova: XCIX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
YOUTH
Youth, ageless youth, the old gods' attribute!
--To inherit cheeks a--tingle with such blood
As wood nymphs blushed, who to the first--blown flute
A Thousand Years From Now
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I SAT within my tranquil room;
The twilight shadows sank and rose
With slowly flickering motions, waved
Grotesquely through the dusk repose;
Song Of A Tribe Of The Ancient Egyptians
© Rupert Brooke
(The Priests within the Temple)
She was wrinkled and huge and hideous? She was our Mother.
She was lustful and lewd?but a God; we had none other.
In the day She was hidden and dumb, but at nightfall moaned in the shade;
We shuddered and gave Her Her will in the darkness; we were afraid.
Scotch Drink
© Robert Burns
Let other poets raise a fracas
Bout vines, and wines, an drucken Bacchus,
An crabbit names an stories wrack us,
An grate our lug:
I sing the juice Scotch bear can mak us,
In glass or Jug.
Epitaph on S.P., a Child of Queen Elizabeth's Chapel
© Benjamin Jonson
Weep with me, all you that read
This little story;
An Impression
© Archibald Lampman
I heard the city time-bells call
Far off in hollow towers,
And one by one with measured fall
Count out the old dead hours;
Lycus the Centaur
© Thomas Hood
FROM AN UNROLLED MANUSCRIPT OF APOLLONIUS CURIUS
(The Argument: Lycus, detained by Circe in her magical dominion, is beloved by a Water Nymph, who, desiring to render him immortal, has recourse to the Sorceress. Circe gives her an incantation to pronounce, which should turn Lycus into a horse; but the horrible effect of the charm causing her to break off in the midst, he becomes a Centaur).
Solomon on the Vanity of the World, A Poem. In Three Books. - Power. Book III.
© Matthew Prior
Come then, my soul: I call thee by that name,
Thou busy thing, from whence I know I am;
For, knowing that I am, I know thou art,
Since that must needs exist which can impart:
But how thou camest to be, or whence thy spring,
For various of thee priests and poets sing.
Lepanto
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Cervantes on his galley sets the sword back in the sheath
(Don John of Austria rides homeward with a wreath.)
And he sees across a weary land a straggling road in Spain,
Up which a lean and foolish knight forever rides in vain,
And he smiles, but not as Sultans smile, and settles back the blade. . .
