Death poems
/ page 138 of 560 /
The Two Wives
© William Dean Howells
THE COLONEL rode by his picket-line
In the pleasant morning sun,
That glanced from him far off to shine
On the crouching rebel pickets gun.
The Escape
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
We watched you building, stone by stone,
The well-washed cells and well-washed graves
Davids Lamentation for Saul and Jonathan.
© Anne Bradstreet
2. Sam. 1. 19.Alas slain is the Head of Israel,
Illustrious Saul whose beauty did excell,
Seasons Of The Soul
© Allen Tate
Attor porsi la mano un poco avante,
e colsi un ramicel da un gran pruno;
e U tronco suo gridd: Perchd mi schiante?
The Task : Complete
© William Cowper
In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers
And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust.
Paracelsus: Part I: Paracelsus Aspires
© Robert Browning
Scene.- Würzburg; a garden in the environs. 1512.
Festus, Paracelsus, Michal.
The Village (book 2)
© George Crabbe
NO longer truth, though shown in verse, disdain,
But own the village life a life of pain;
I too must yield, that oft amid these woes
Are gleams of transient mirth and hours of sweet repose.
Love at Sea
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
Land me, she says, where love
Shows but one shaft, one dove,
One heart, one hand.
A shore like that, my dear,
Lies where no man will steer,
No maiden land.
Sonnet XIX. To Mr. Haley,
© Charlotte Turner Smith
On receiving some elegant lines from him.
FOR me the Muse a simple band design'd
Of 'idle' flowers that bloom the woods among,
Which, with the cypress and the willow join'd,
From Perugia
© John Greenleaf Whittier
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE'S Letters from Italy.
THE tall, sallow guardsmen their horsetails have spread,
Flaming out in their violet, yellow, and red;
And behind go the lackeys in crimson and buff,
Carmen Seculare. For the Year 1700. To The King
© Matthew Prior
Thy elder Look, Great Janus, cast
Into the long Records of Ages past:
Going To Sleep
© George MacDonald
Little one, you must not fret
That I take your clothes away;
Better sleep you so will get,
And at morning wake more gay-
Saith the children's mother.
The Wakened God
© Margaret Widdemer
The War-god wakened drowsily;
There were gold chains about his hands.
He said: "And who shall reap my lands
And bear the tithes to Death for me?
Fourth Sunday After Easter
© John Keble
My Saviour, can it ever be
That I should gain by losing Thee?
A Dream
© William Cullen Bryant
I had a dream--a strange, wild dream--
Said a dear voice at early light;
And even yet its shadows seem
To linger in my waking sight.
Sonnet -- The Snow-Drop
© Mary Darby Robinson
THOU meekest emblem of the infant year,
Why droops so cold and wan thy fragrant head ?
Ah ! why retiring to thy frozen bed,
Steals from thy silky leaves the trembling tear ?
To the University of Cambridge
© Phillis Wheatley
While an intrinsic ardor prompts to write,
The muses promise to assist my pen;
The Two Souls
© Edgar Lee Masters
If the final good
Of ages and their anguished sacrifice
May be destroyed by villany and gold
Procured by villany. Enough of grief!
Turn loose life's carnival, for those who miss
The flesh's lust, have lost the all in all!
Two Songs
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Let me die by the sea!
When the great deeps are sundered and stirred,
And the night cometh fast,
Let my spirit mount up like a bird,
On the wings of the blast.
