Death poems
/ page 173 of 560 /A child said, What is the grass?
© Walt Whitman
A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full
hands;
How could I answer the child?. . . .I do not know what it
is any more than he.
Fredman's song no. 10
© Carl Michael Bellman
Drink till after twelve or more,
Live it up with madmen !
An Evening Song To She Who Exists By My Name
© Daniil Ivanovich Kharms
Daughter of the daughter of the daughters of the daughter Pe
foreto the apple you ate of yee
The Dream Star
© George Essex Evans
Whisper, O wings of the wind! Sing me your song, O sea!
Grey is the weary world, and grey is the heart of me!
Into my shadowy heart pierce like the star of old,
Pearl of the tender dawn, kissed by the trembling gold!
Christmas Greeting
© Edgar Albert Guest
I DO not care to wait until the hand of death has smoothed your brow
Before I say what's in my heart, I'd rather tell it to you now.
I'd rather say: "How glad I am to know your cheery voice and smile,"
Than stand and say "how glad I was" in some grief-stricken after-while.
I'd rather shout: "how good you are!" than sniffle out: "how good was he!"
And so I take this Christmas Day to say you have a friend in me.
To Mr. Harley - Wounded by Guiscard
© Matthew Prior
In one great now, superior to an age,
The full extremes of nature's force we find:
How heavenly virtue can exalt, or rage
Infernal how degrade the human mind.
The Sirens
© James Russell Lowell
The sea is lonely, the sea is dreary,
The sea is restless and uneasy;
Hope Triumphant in Death
© Thomas Campbell
Unfading Hope! when life's last embers burn -
When soul to soul, and dust to dust return,
The Cigar
© Thomas Hood
Some sigh for this and that,
My wishes don't go far;
The world may wag at will,
So I have my cigar.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. Interlude II.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Soon as the story reached its end,
One, over eager to commend,
Crowned it with injudicious praise;
And then the voice of blame found vent,
And fanned the embers of dissent
Into a somewhat lively blaze.
The Killer
© Judith Wright
The day was clear as fire,
the birds sang frail as glass,
when thirsty I came to the creek
and fell by its side in the grass.
A Dream Of Resurrection
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
SO heavenly beautiful it lay,
It was less like a human corse
Than that fair shape in which perforce
A lost hope clothes itself alway.
To a Traveller
© Lionel Pigot Johnson
THE mountains, and the lonely death at last
Upon the lonely mountains: O strong friend!
For The Fallen
© Robert Laurence Binyon
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
The Wrongs Of Africa, A Poem. Part The First
© William Roscoe
OFFSPRING of love divine, Humanity!
To who, his eldest born, th'Eternal gave
The Pearl Of Them All
© William Henry Ogilvie
Gaily in front of the stockwhip
The horses come galloping home,
A Fair Melody: To Be Sung By Good Christians
© Hans Sachs
Awake, my heart's delight, awake
Thou Christian host, and hear