Death poems
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To An Oak At Newstead
© George Gordon Byron
Young Oak! when I planted thee deep in the ground,
I hoped that thy days would be longer than mine;
That thy dark‑waving branches would flourish around,
And ivy thy trunk with its mantle entwine.
Songs Of Poltescoe Valley
© Arthur Symons
I
Under the trees in the dell.
Here by the side of the stream,
Were it not pleasant to dream,
Were it not better to dwell?
Samuel J. Tilden
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Once more, O all-adjusting Death!
The nation's Pantheon opens wide;
Once more a common sorrow saith
A strong, wise man has died.
Italy : 23. Bologna
© Samuel Rogers
'Twas night; the noise and bustle of the day
Were o'er. The mountebank no longer wrought
Miraculous cures -- he and his stage were gone;
And he who, when the crisis of his tale
St. Dorothy
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
And Theophile burnt in the cheek, and said:
Yea, could one see it, this were marvellous.
I pray you, at your coming to this house,
Give me some leaf of all those tree-branches;
Seeing how so sharp and white our weather is,
There is no green nor gracious red to see.
The Shadowy Waters: The Shadowy Waters
© William Butler Yeats
Second Sailor. And I had thought to make
A good round Sum upon this cruise, and turn
For I am getting on in lifeto something
That has less ups and downs than robbery.
The Parish Register - Part I: Baptisms
© George Crabbe
floor.
Here his poor bird th' inhuman Cocker brings,
Arms his hard heel and clips his golden wings;
With spicy food th' impatient spirit feeds,
And shouts and curses as the battle bleeds.
Struck through the brain, deprived of both his
Life Is Bitter
© William Ernest Henley
Life is bitter. All the faces of the years,
Young and old, are gray with travail and with tears.
Must we only wake to toil, to tire, to weep?
In the sun, among the leaves, upon the flowers,
Slumber stills to dreamy death the heavy hours
Let me sleep.
Little and Great
© Charles Mackay
A traveller on a dusty road
Strewed acorns on the lea;
And one took root and sprouted up,
And grew into a tree.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXXVII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
WHO WOULD LIVE AGAIN?
Oh who would live again to suffer loss?
Once in my youth I battled with my fate,
Grudging my days to death. I would have won
The Acquiescence Of Pure Love
© William Cowper
Love! if thy destined sacrifice am I,
Come, slay thy victim, and prepare thy fires;
Plunged in thy depths of mercy, let me die
The death which every soul that lives desires!
May 26, 1828
© Alexander Pushkin
Gift haphazard, unavailing,
Life, why were thou given me?
Why art thou to death unfailing
Sentenced by dark destiny?
Ask What I Shall Give Thee (III)
© John Newton
Behold the throne of grace!
The promise calls me near;
There Jesus shows a smiling face,
And waits to answer prayer.
A Woman's Love
© John Hay
A sentinel angel sitting high in glory
Heard this shrill wail ring out from Purgatory:
"Have mercy, mighty angel, hear my story!
Rantoul
© John Greenleaf Whittier
One day, along the electric wire
His manly word for Freedom sped;
We came next morn: that tongue of fire
Said only, "He who spake is dead!"
Ball's Bluff: A Reverie
© Herman Melville
One noonday, at my window in the town,
I saw a sight - saddest that eyes can see -
Illa
© Stephen Vincent Benet
This is only the shadow of what she was once;
The rest is Honor's.
Nevertheless, O Death, be humble in claiming
Even that shadow.
