Death poems
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The Lady Of Provence
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
"Courage was cast about her like a dress
Of solemn comeliness,
A gathered mind and an untroubled face
Did give her dangers grace." ~ Donne.
A Felicitous Life
© Czeslaw Milosz
It was bitter to say farewell to the earth so renewed.
He was envious and ashamed of his doubt,
Content that his lacerated memory would vanish with him.
Timor Mortis
© John Daniel Logan
'For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother . . . . .
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here.'
Fighting McGuire
© William Percy French
Now, Giibbon has told the story of old,
Of the Fall of the Roman Empire,
'The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 12
© Publius Vergilius Maro
WHEN Turnus saw the Latins leave the field,
Their armies broken, and their courage quelld,
Army Of Northern Virginia
© Stephen Vincent Benet
He only said it once-the marble closed-
There was a man enclosed within that image.
There was a force that tried Proportion's rule
And died without a legend or a cue
To bring it back. The shadow-Lees still live.
But the first-person and the singular Lee?
Hymn 69
© Isaac Watts
[Begin, my tongue, some heav'nly theme,
And speak some boundless thing;
The mighty works, or mightier name,
Of our eternal King.
The Change
© Abraham Cowley
LOVE in her sunny eyes does basking play;
Love walks the pleasant mazes of her hair;
Love does on both her lips for ever stray
And sows and reaps a thousand kisses there.
In all her outward parts Love's always seen;
But, oh, He never went within.
My thankfull heart with glorying Tongue
© Anne Bradstreet
My thankfull heart with glorying Tongue
Shall celebrate thy Name,
I Go Out On The Road Alone
© Mikhail Lermontov
Alone I set out on the road;
The flinty path is sparkling in the mist;
The night is still. The desert harks to God,
And star with star converses.
November Fifth
© Louisa Stuart Costello
Oh, what relief to gaze on yonder sky,
Where all is holy, calm, and purely bright!
Within, the sound of mirth and revelry
Startles the timid ear of sober night.
Don Juan: Canto The Third
© George Gordon Byron
The isles of Greece, the Isles of Greece!
Where burning Sappho loved and sung,
Where grew the arts of war and peace,
Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung!
Eternal summer gilds them yet,
But all, except their sun, is set.
Sonnet XLIII. London.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
BLACK in the midnight lies the City vast.
Its dim horizon from my window high
I see shut in beneath a misty sky
Red with the light a million lamp-fires cast
Prelude: The Troops
© Siegfried Sassoon
Dim, gradual thinning of the shapeless gloom
Shudders to drizzling daybreak that reveals
Ode To The Spirit Of The Earth In Autumn
© George Meredith
The crimson-footed nymph is panting up the glade,
With the wine-jar at her arm-pit, and the drunken ivy-braid
Round her forehead, breasts, and thighs: starts a Satyr, and they
speed:
Hear the crushing of the leaves: hear the cracking of the bough!
And the whistling of the bramble, the piping of the weed!
Appeal To Nature Of The Solitary Heart
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
DEAR mother, take me to thy breast!
I have no other place of rest
In all this weary world of men:
Ah! fold me in thy love again,
Sweet mother; clasp me to thy breast!
The Progress Of A Divine: Satire
© Richard Savage
All priests are not the same, be understood!
Priests are, like other folks, some bad, some good.
What's vice or virtue, sure admits no doubt;
Then, clergy, with church mission, or without;
When good, or bad, annex we to your name,
The greater honour, or the greater shame.
I Vex Me Not With Brooding On The Years
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
I vex me not with brooding on the years
That were ere I drew breath; why should I then
The Gunners
© Gertrude Bartlett
The shining dead men, rank on rank, appear,
Their voices raised in one great cry, to hail
The gunners prone, for whom reveille clear
Their silver bugles blow in morning pale.
Your battle, God! to make men great; and here,
In that cause, dead, unvanquished, we prevail.
