Death poems
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The Advice Of Treachery
© Leon Gellert
This well-feigned trance, this still and
stupored sleep
is aptly timed, and nobly fits the scheme.
The cloud-encircled Sword with Night may creep
The Death Of President Lincoln
© Joseph Furphy
Now let the howling tempest roar
For Booth can feel its force no more;
Now let the captors bend their steel
Against the form that cannot feel
Their tyranny has spent its hour
And Booth is far beyond their power.
In Memory Of Douglas Vernon Cow
© Muriel Stuart
To twilight heads comes Death as comes a friend.
As with the gentle fading of the year
Fades rose, folds leaf, falls fruit, and to their end
Unquestioning draw near,
Their flowering over, and their fruiting done,
Fulfilled and finished and going down with the sun.
Women Have Loved Before As I Love Now
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
Women have loved before as I love now;
At least, in lively chronicles of the past
The Dance Of The Seven Sins
© Arthur Symons
THE STAGE-MANAGER
It is. Each morning that decays
To midnight ends the world as well,
For the world's day, as that farewell
When, at the ultimate judgment-Stroke,
Heaven too shall vanish in pale smoke.
Businesse
© George Herbert
Rivers run, and springs each one
Know their home, and get them gone:
Hast thou tears, or hast thou none?
Sense And Spirit
© George Meredith
The senses loving Earth or well or ill
Ravel yet more the riddle of our lot.
A Convict's Lament on the Death of Captain Logan
© Anonymous
I am a native of the land of Erin,
and lately banished from that lovely shore;
I left behind my aged parents
Vision Of Columbus - Book 9
© Joel Barlow
Now, round the yielding canopy of shade,
Again the Guide his heavenly power display'd.
Rachel
© Anna Akhmatova
When Jacob and Rachel met for the first time,
He bowed to her like a humble wayfarer.
The herds were raising hot dust to the skies,
The little well's mouth was covered by a boulder.
He rolled the old boulder away from the well
And watered the flock with clean water himself.
Sonnets Of The Blood II
© Allen Tate
Near to me as perfection in the blood
And more mysterious far, is this, my brother:
Stanzas In Memory Of The Author Of 'Obermann'
© Matthew Arnold
In front the awful Alpine track
Crawls up its rocky stair;
The autumn storm-winds drive the rack,
Close o'er it, in the air.
The Lost Wife
© Stephen Vincent Benet
In the daytime, maybe, your heart's not breaking,
For there's the sun and the sky and working
And the neighbors to give you a word or hear you,
But, ah, the long nights when the wind comes shaking
The cold, black curtain, pulling and jerking,
And no one there in the bed to be near you.
The Spagnoletto. Act I
© Emma Lazarus
SCENE--During the first four acts, in Naples; latter part of the
fifth act, in Palermo. Time, about 1655.
The Island In The South
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THE ship went down at noonday in a cam,
When not a zephyr broke the crystal sea.
We two escaped alone: we reached an isle
Whereon the water settled languidly
The Purgatory Of St. Patrick - Act II
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
PHILIP [aside]. If to find my death I come,
Why precipitate my doom?
But so patient who could be
As to not desire to see
What impends, how dark its gloom?
Idea LXI: Since there 's no help
© Michael Drayton
SINCE there 's no help, come let us kiss and part-
Nay, I have done, you get no more of me;
Epitah on the Politician Himself
© Hilaire Belloc
Here richly, with ridiculous display,
The Politician's corpse was laid away.
While all of his acquaintance sneered and slanged
I wept: for I had longed to see him hanged.
