Death poems
/ page 194 of 560 /
The Mothers Secret
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
But Mary, faithful to its lightest word,
Kept in her heart the sayings she had heard,
Till the dread morning rent the Temple's veil,
And shuddering earth confirmed the wondrous tale.
For My Sake.
© James Brunton Stephens
INASMUCH as ye gave ear unto the sighing
Of the least of these the children of my care,
Homily
© Allen Tate
If your tired unspeaking head
Rivet the dark with linear sight,
Crazed by a warlock with his curse
Dreamed up in some loquacious bed,
And if the stage-dark head rehearse
The fifth act of the closing night,
'Ware Wire!
© Jessie Pope
WHEN the beagles are running like steam,
When the plough is as sticky as glue,
The Three Horses
© George MacDonald
What shall I be?-I will be a knight
Walled up in armour black,
With a sword of sharpness, a hammer of might.
And a spear that will not crack-
So black, so blank, no glimmer of light
Will betray my darkling track.
Ormuzd And Ahriman. The Overture.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
Ah, what are all the discords of all time
But stumbling steps of one persistent life
That struggles up through mists to heights sublime
Forefelt through all creation's lingering strife:
The deathless motion of one undertone,
Whose deep vibrations thrill from God to God alone!
The Color Sergeant
© James Weldon Johnson
Under a burning tropic sun,
With comrades around him lying,
A trooper of the sable Tenth
Lay wounded, bleeding, dying.
The Voice
© Sara Teasdale
ATOMS as old as stars,
Mutation on mutation,
Millions and millions of cells
Dividing yet still the same,
Snow
© William Wilfred Campbell
Down out of heaven,
Frost-kissed
And wind driven,
Flake upon flake,
Over forest and lake,
Cometh the snow.
An Hymne In Honour Of Love
© Edmund Spenser
Why then do I this honor unto thee,
Thus to ennoble thy victorious name,
Sith thou doest shew no favour unto mee,
Ne once move ruth in that rebellious dame,
Footlight Motifs
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Time was, when first that voice I heard,
Despite my close and tense endeavour,
When many an important word
Was lost and gone forever;
Though, unlike others at the play,
I never whispered: "wha'd'd she say?"
Ad Astra
© George Essex Evans
Cleaving the blue abysmal without sound,
Pressed on my soul I felt the awful seals
Of that vast Cosmos without depth or bound,
Blazing with golden wheels.
The Poetry Of Keats
© George Meredith
The song of a nightingale sent thro' a slumbrous valley,
Low-lidded with twilight, and tranced with the dolorous sound,
Tranced with a tender enchantment; the yearning of passion
That wins immortality even while panting delirious with death.
Of The Nature Of Things: Book III - Part 03 - The Soul Is Mortal
© Lucretius
Now come: that thou mayst able be to know
That minds and the light souls of all that live
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: I
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
When is life other than a tragedy,
Whether it is played in tears from the first scene,
In sable robes and grief's mute pageantry,
For loves that died ere they had ever been,
In Spite Of War
© Angela Morgan
And in my ear a whispering breath,
"Wake from the nightmare! Look and see
That life is naught but ecstasy
In spite of war, in spite of death!"
Natalias Resurrection: Sonnet XXII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
The thought of night consoled him. To his vision
Natalia was dead only in false death,
The sleeping treason of some false misprision,
Some silent mystery of shortened breath,
