Death poems

 / page 165 of 560 /
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The Death of Parson Caldwell's Wife

© Mercy Otis Warren

THE outrage of innocence in instances too numerous to be recorded, of the wanton barbarity of the soldiers of the King of England, as they patrolled the defenceless villages of America, was evinced nowhere more remarkably than in the burnings and massacres every that, marked the footsteps of the British troops as they from time to time ravaged the State of New Jersey

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The Farewell To The Dead

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

Come near!-ere yet the dust
Soil the bright paleness of the settled brow,
Look on your brother, and embrace him now,
  In still and solemn trust!
Come near!-once more let kindred lips be press'd
On his cold cheek; then bear him to his rest!

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Manos Karastefanes

© James Merrill

Death took my father.
The same year (I was twelve)
Thanási's mother taught me
Heaven and hell.

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Come Back

© Henry William Herbert

COME back and bring my life again

  That went with thee beyond my will!

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Ode - On the Death of a Young Lady

© John Logan

The peace of Heaven attend thy shade,
My early friend, my favourite maid!
When life was new, companions gay,
We hail'd the morning of our day.

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In Hospital

© Boris Pasternak

They stood, almost blocking the pavement,
As though at a window display;
The stretcher was pushed in position,
The ambulance started away.

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Tale Of A Tub

© Sylvia Plath

The photographic chamber of the eye
records bare painted walls, while an electric light
lays the chromium nerves of plumbing raw;
such poverty assaults the ego; caught

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Sonnet LXXVII: Soul's Beauty

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Under the arch of Life, where love and death,

Terror and mystery, guard her shrine, I saw

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Fragment

© Anne Kingsmill Finch

SO here confin'd, and but to female Clay,

ARDELIA's Soul mistook the rightful Way:

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The True Heroes : Or, The Noble Army Of Martyrs

© Hannah More

You who love a tale of glory,
Listen to the song I sing:
Heroes of the Christian story
Are the heroes I shall bring.

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The Blind Girl Of Castel-Cuille. (From The Gascon of Jasmin)

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

At the foot of the mountain height
Where is perched Castel Cuille,
When the apple, the plum, and the almond tree
In the plain below were growing white,
This is the song one might perceive
On a Wednesday morn of Saint Joseph's Eve:

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The Annunciation And Passion

© John Donne

TAMELY, frail body, abstain to-day ; to-day

My soul eats twice, Christ hither and away.

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Pippa Passes: Part III: Evening

© Robert Browning


Mother
If there blew wind, you'd hear a long sigh, easing
The utmost heaviness of music's heart.

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The Death-Raven (From The Danish Of Oehlenslaeger)

© George Borrow

"The wealthy bird came towering,
Came scowering,
O'er hill and stream.
'Look here, look here, thou needy bird,
How gay my feathers gleam.'

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The House Of Dust: Part 03: 02:

© Conrad Aiken

You read—what is it, then that you are reading?
What music moves so silently in your mind?
Your bright hand turns the page.
I watch you from my window, unsuspected:
You move in an alien land, a silent age . . .

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The Coming War

© Sam Walter Foss

"There will be a war in Europe,
Thrones will be rent and overturned,"
("Go and fetch a pail of water," said his wife).
"Nations shall go down in slaughter,

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The Hurricane

© Jose Maria de Heredia y Campuzano

Lord of the winds! I feel thee nigh,
I know thy breath in the burning sky!
And I wait, with a thrill in every vein,
For the coming of the hurricane!

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A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXVI

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Youth is all valiant. He and I together,
Conscious of strength, and unreproved of wrong,
Strained at the world's conventions as a tether
Too weak to bind us, and burst forth in song.

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An Ode - In Imitation of Horace, Book III. Ode II.

© Matthew Prior

How long, deluded Albion, wilt thou lie

In the lethargic sleep, the sad repose

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Mr. Edwards and the Spider

© Robert Lowell

  I saw the spiders marching through the air,

  Swimming from tree to tree that mildewed day