Death poems
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Paradise Lost : Book VII.
© John Milton
Descend from Heaven, Urania, by that name
If rightly thou art called, whose voice divine
Greeting Poem
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
There was a sound in the wind to-day,
Like a joyous cymbal ringing!
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 04 - part 05
© Torquato Tasso
LXIV
"For lo a knight, that had a gate to ward,
A Summer Night
© Matthew Arnold
A world above man's head, to let him see
How boundless might his soul's horizons be,
How vast, yet of what clear transparency!
How it were good to live there, and breathe free;
How fair a lot to fill
Is left to each man still!
Thirteenth Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
On Sinai's top, in prayer and trance,
Full forty nights and forty days
The Prophet watched for one dear glance
Of thee and of Thy ways:
Beauty And The Beast
© Charles Lamb
"My Lord, I swear upon my knees,
"I did not mean to harm your trees;
"But a lov'd Daughter, fair as spring,
"Intreated me a Rose to bring;
"O didst thou know, my lord, the Maid!"-
Danse Du Venteje
© Arthur Symons
Her vices to her cling.
There's blood that stains her mouth;
Suspense of sense, a sting
On all her body's drouth
Of blood-red colouring.
The Disinterred Warrior
© William Cullen Bryant
Gather him to his grave again,
And solemnly and softly lay,
Lines Written By The Seaside (I)
© Frances Anne Kemble
O Lesbian! if thy faith were mine,
Then might I in that summer sea
Davids Lament For Jonathan
© Mary Hannay Foott
All night thy body on the mountain lay:
At morn the heathen nailed thee to their wall.
Surely their deaf gods hear the songs to-day
Oer the slain House of Saul!
Bound For California
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
With buoyant heart he left his home for that bright wondrous land
Where gold ore gleams in countless mines, and gold dust strews the sand;
And youths dear ties were riven all, for as wild, as vain, a dream
As the meteor false that leads astray the traveller with its gleam.
On The Death Of Mrs. Elizabeth Filmer. An Elegiacall Epitaph
© Richard Lovelace
You that shall live awhile, before
Old time tyrs, and is no more:
When that this ambitious stone
Stoopes low as what it tramples on:
The Banks Of Wye - Book II
© Robert Bloomfield
Return, my Llewellyn, the glory
That heroes may gain o'er the sea,
Though nations may feel
Their invincible steel,
By falsehood is tarnish'd in story;
Why tarry, Llewellyn, from me?
Tuesday Before Easter
© John Keble
"Fill high the bowl, and spice it well, and pour
The dews oblivious: for the Cross is sharp,
The Cross is sharp, and He
Is tenderer than a lamb.
The Mother
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
"Ho! "said the child, "how fine the horses go,
With nodding plumes, with measured step and slow
Bishop Orders His Tomb at Saint Praxed's Church, Rome, The
© Robert Browning
Vanity, saith the preacher, vanity!
Draw round my bed: is Anselm keeping back?
The Compliment
© Thomas Carew
I do not love thee for that fair
Rich fan of thy most curious hair;
Though the wires thereof be drawn
Finer than threads of lawn,
And are softer than the leaves
On which the subtle spider weaves.
The Inevitable by Allan Peterson: American Life in Poetry #159 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2
© Ted Kooser
Bad news all too often arrives with a ringing telephone, all too early in the morning. But sometimes it comes with less emphasis, by regular mail. Here Allan Peterson of Florida gets at the feelings of receiving bad news by letter, not by directly stating how he feels but by suddenly noticing the world that surrounds the moment when that news arrives.
The Inevitable
Habeas Corpus
© Helen Hunt Jackson
* (Unfinished here.)
Ah, well, friend Death, good friend thou art;
I shall be free when thou art through.
Take all there is - take hand and heart;
There must be somewhere work to do.
