Death poems
/ page 169 of 560 /A Rainy Day in Camp
© Anonymous
Tis a cheerless, lonesome evening
When the soaking, sodden ground
Will not echo to the footfall
of the sentinel's dull round.
On Anne Allen
© Edward Fitzgerald
The wind blew keenly from the Western sea,
And drove the dead leaves slanting from the tree--
Vanity of vanities, the Preacher saith--
Heaping them up before her Father's door
When I saw her whom I shall see no more--
We cannot bribe thee, Death.
The Asthmatic To The Satan That Binds Him
© George MacDonald
Satan, avaunt!
Nay, take thine hour,
Thou canst not daunt,
Thou hast no power;
Be welcome to thy nest,
Though it be in my breast.
Of The Nature Of Things: Book IV - Part 04 - Some Vital Functions
© Lucretius
In these affairs
We crave that thou wilt passionately flee
The Anarchist.
© Arthur Henry Adams
THE dawn hangs heavy on the distant hill,
The darkness shudders slowly into light;
And from the weary bosom of the night
The pent winds sigh, then sink with horror still.
The Last Man
© Thomas Lovell Beddoes
By heaven and hell, and all the fools between them,
I will not die, nor sleep, nor wink my eyes,
Tamar
© Robinson Jeffers
Grass grows where the flame flowered;
A hollowed lawn strewn with a few black stones
And the brick of broken chimneys; all about there
The old trees, some of them scarred with fire, endure the sea
wind.
A Prayer For The King's Majesty
© Edith Nesbit
God, by our memories of his Mother's face,
By the love that makes our heart her dwelling-place,
Grant to our sorrow this desired grace:
God save the King!
To ----
© Sidney Lanier
The Day was dying; his breath
Wavered away in a hectic gleam;
And I said, if Life's a dream, and Death
And Love and all are dreams - I'll dream.
Verses For Pictures
© William Morris
I am Day; I bring again
Life and glory, Love and pain:
Awake, arise! from death to death
Through me the Worlds tale quickeneth.
The Ruling Thought
© Giacomo Leopardi
Most sweet, most powerful,
Controller of my inmost soul;
The terrible, yet precious gift
Of heaven, companion kind
Of all my days of misery,
O thought, that ever dost recur to me;
Ode to Salvador Dali
© Federico Garcia Lorca
A rose in the high garden you desire.
A wheel in the pure syntax of steel.
The mountain stripped bare of Impressionist fog,
The grays watching over the last balustrades.
Stand by the Engines
© Henry Lawson
ON THE moonlighted decks there are children at play,
While smoothly the steamer is holding her way;
And the old folks are chatting on deck-seats and chairs,
And the lads and the lassies go strolling in pairs.
The Human Sacrifice
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I.
FAR from his close and noisome cell,
By grassy lane and sunny stream,
Blown clover field and strawberry dell,
Queen Mab: Part I.
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
FAIRY
'Spirit! who hast dived so deep;
Spirit! who hast soared so high;
Thou the fearless, thou the mild,
Accept the boon thy worth hath earned,
Ascend the car with me!'
Why Art Thou Thus Cast Down, My Heart?
© Hans Sachs
Why art thou thus cast down, my heart?
Why troubled, why dost mourn apart,
O'er nought but earthly wealth?
Trust in thy God, be not afraid,
He is thy Friend who all things made.
In London
© Dora Wilcox
When I look out on London's teeming streets,
On grim grey houses, and on leaden skies,