Death poems
/ page 166 of 560 /The Passover In The Holy Family (For A Drawing)
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Here meet together the prefiguring day
And day prefigured. Eating, thou shalt stand,
Poems Of Joys
© Walt Whitman
O to make the most jubilant poem!
Even to set off these, and merge with these, the carols of Death.
O full of music! full of manhood, womanhood, infancy!
Full of common employments! full of grain and trees.
A Dream, Written After the Author's Recovery from Illness
© Alaric Alexander Watts
O! it is pleasant, with a heart at ease,
Just after sunset, or by moonlight skies,
To make the shifting clouds be what you please. ~ COLERIDGE.
John Brown
© James Whitcomb Riley
Writ in between the lines of his life-deed
We trace the sacred service of a heart
Ode To The Confederate Dead
© Allen Tate
You hear the shout, the crazy hemlocks point
With troubled fingers to the silence which
Smothers you, a mummy, in time.
An Old Lament Renewed
© Vernon Scannell
The soil is savoury with their bones' lost marrow;
Down among dark roots their polished knuckles lie,
And no one could tell one peeled head from another;
Earth packs each crater that once gleamed with eye.
The Way To Happiness
© Thomas Parnell
How long ye miserable blind
Shall idle dreams engage your mind,
The Invocation
© William Blake
Daughters of Beulah! Muses who inspire the Poet's Song,
Record the journey of immortal Milton thro' your realms
Of terror and mild moony lustre, in soft Sexual delusions
Of varièd beauty, to delight the wanderer, and repose
The Bride Of The Nile - Act III
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
(Enter Barix and Boïlas conversing.)
Barix. I always said it, Boïlas, it must come at last,
The day of annexation. Things have moved on fast,
Faster than we quite thought a week or two ago.
The mills of Rome grind slowly--quite absurdly slow.
It comes to the same thing.
The Sibyls
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Out of the seas that streamed
In ghostly turbulence moving and glimmering about me
I saw the rising of vast and visionary forms.
Sonnet LIV.
© Charlotte Turner Smith
THE SLEEPING WOODMAN.
Written in April, 1790.
YE copses wild, where April bids arise
The vernal grasses, and the early flowers;
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Musician's Tale; The Saga of King Olaf VIII. -- Gudrun
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
On King Olaf's bridal night
Shines the moon with tender light,
And across the chamber streams
Its tide of dreams.
An Imperfect Revolution
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
They crowded weeping from the teacher's house,
Crying aloud their fear at what he taught,
Marmion: Introduction to Canto I
© Sir Walter Scott
November's sky is chill and drear,
November's leaf is red and sear:
I Am Standing Upon The Seashore.
© Henry Van Dyke
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
The Winter Lakes
© William Wilfred Campbell
Lands that loom like spectres, whited regions of winter,
Wastes of desolate woods, deserts of water and shore;
A world of winter and death, within these regions who enter,
Lost to summer and life, go to return no more.
Come Slowly, Paradise
© James Benjamin Kenyon
O dawn upon me slowly, Paradise!
Come not too suddenly,
Lest my just-opened, unaccustomed eyes
Smitten with blindness be.
Abide With Me
© Henry Francis Lyte
Abide with me! Fast falls the Eventide;
The darkness thickens. Lord, with me abide
When other helpers fail, and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me!