Death poems
/ page 188 of 560 /
For Spring By Sandro Botticelli
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
WHAT masque of what old wind-withered New-Year
Honours this Lady? Flora, wanton-eyed
Percy Bysshe Shelley
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
'Twixt those twin worlds,the world of Sleep, which gave
No dream to warn,the tidal world of Death,
The Lady Of La Garaye - Dedication
© Caroline Norton
FRIEND of old days, of suffering, storm, and strife,
Patient and kind through many a wild appeal;
In the arena of thy brilliant life
Never too busy or too cold to feel:
On Keats, Who Desired That On His Tomb Should Be Inscribed--
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
'Here lieth One whose name was writ on water.
But, ere the breath that could erase it blew,
Death, in remorse for that fell slaughter,
Death, the immortalizing winter, flew
The Tyrant
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
ONE comes with foot insistent to my door,
Calling my name;
Nor voice nor footstep have I heard before,
Yet clear the calling sounds and o'er and o'er--
It seems the sunlight burns along the floor
With paler flame!
Christmas: 1915
© Percy MacKaye
Christ! What shall be delivered to the morn
Out of these pangs, if ever indeed another
Morn shall succeed this night, or this vast mother
Survive to know the blood-spent offspring, torn
From her racked flesh?-What splendour from the smother?
What new-wing'd world, or mangled god still-born?
Isolation
© Arthur Symons
When your lips seek my lips they bring
That sorrowful and outcast thing
My heart home from its wandering.
The Bagman's Dog: Mr. Peters's Story
© Richard Harris Barham
It was a litter, a litter of five,
Four are drown'd and one left alive,
He was thought worthy alone to survive;
And the Bagman resolved upon bringing him up,
To eat of his bread, and to drink of his cup,
He was such a dear little cock-tail'd pup.
Madeleine Vercheres
© William Henry Drummond
I've told you many a tale, my child, of the
old heroic days
Shooter's Hill
© Robert Bloomfield
Health! I seek thee;-dost thou love
The mountain top or quiet vale,
The Reprieve
© Caroline Norton
"Oh! hear me, thou, who in the sunshine's glare
So calmly waitest till the warning bell
Shall of the closing hour of his despair
In gloomy notes of muffled triumph tell.
From The Cuckoo And The Nightingale
© William Wordsworth
The God of Love-"ah, benedicite!"
How mighty and how great a Lord is he!
For he of low hearts can make high, of high
He can make low, and unto death bring nigh;
And hard-hearts he can make them kind and free.
The Powers Of Love
© George Moses Horton
It lifts the poor man from his cell
To fortune's bright alcove;
Its mighty sway few, few can tell,
Mid envious foes it conquers ill;
There's nothing half like love.
Obsession
© Charles Baudelaire
Grands bois, vous m'effrayez comme des cathédrales;
Vous hurlez comme l'orgue; et dans nos coeurs maudits,
Chambres d'éternel deuil où vibrent de vieux râles,
Répondent les échos de vos De profundis.
The Wind O' Death.
© Robert Crawford
Oh! we hae a' to die, dear,
We're a' to gang awa';
We, when Death's wind blows by, dear,
Like apples hae to fa';
The Boundary Rider
© Thomas William Heney
THE BRIDLE reins hang loose in the hold of his lean left hand;
As the tether gives, the horse bends browsing down to the sand,
Upon The Bee
© John Bunyan
The bee goes out, and honey home doth bring,
And some who seek that honey find a sting.
Now would'st thou have the honey, and be free
From stinging, in the first place kill the bee.
On Sr Charles Porter The Chancellours Death
© Thomas Parnell
& tis too true alass! we find, he's gonn,
Virtue from earth a second time is flown,
Gran Boule
© Henry Van Dyke
A SEAMAN'S TALE OF THE SEA
We men hat go down for a livin' in ships to the sea,
