Death poems
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Ode VI: Hymn To Cheerfulness
© Mark Akenside
Friend to the Muse and all her train,
For thee i court the Muse again:
The Muse for thee may well exert
Her pomp, her charms, her fondest art,
Who owes to thee that pleasing sway
Which earth and peopled heaven obey.
Epitaph On The Countess Of Pembroke
© Benjamin Jonson
Underneath this sable hearse
Lies the subject of all verse,
Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother:
Death! ere thou hast slain another,
Learned, and fair, and good as she,
Time shall throw a dart at thee.
One and Oneare One
© Emily Dickinson
One and Oneare One
Twobe finished using
Well enough for Schools
But for Minor Choosing
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 7
© Publius Vergilius Maro
AND thou, O matron of immortal fame,
Here dying, to the shore hast left thy name;
The Setting Of The Moon
© Giacomo Leopardi
As, in the lonely night,
Above the silvered fields and streams
All-Souls' Night
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
O MOTHER, mother, I swept the hearth, I set his chair and the white board spread,
I prayed for his coming to our kindly Lady when Death's doors would let out the dead;
A strange wind rattled the window-pane, and down the lane a dog howled on,
I called his name and the candle flame burnt dim, pressed a hand the door-latch upon.
Deelish! Deelish! my woe forever that I could not sever coward flesh from fear.
I called his name and the pale ghost came; but I was afraid to meet my dear.
Forever
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
He heard it first upon the lips of love,
And loved it for love's sake;
Don Juan: Canto The Second
© George Gordon Byron
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
Songs Set To Music: 2. Set By Mr. Purcell
© Matthew Prior
Whither would my passion run?
Shall I fly her, or pursue her?
Losing her I am undone,
Yet would not gain her to undo her.
Italy : 41. An Adventure
© Samuel Rogers
Three days they lay in ambush at my gate,
Then sprung and led me captive. Many a wild
We traversed; but Rusconi, 'twas no less,
Marched by my side, and, when I thirsted, climbed
To John Milton
© John Clare
Poet of mighty power, I fain
Would court the muse that honoured thee,
And, like Elisha's spirit, gain
A part of thy intensity;
And share the mantle which she flung
Around thee, when thy lyre was strung.
While Yet These Tears
© Louise Labe
While yet these tears have power to flow
For hours for ever past away;
Written At Sea
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
What is my quarrel with thee, beautiful sea,
That thus I cannot love thy waves or thee,
Or hear thy voice but it tormenteth me?
Invocation
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
I called on dreams and visions, to disclose
That which is veil'd from waking thought; conjured
Eternity, as men constrain a ghost
To appear and answer. ~ WORDSWORTH.
The Mothers Last Watch
© Caroline Norton
Written on the occasion of the death of the infant daughter of Her Grace the Duchess of Sutherland.
I.
HARK, through the proudly decorated halls,
How strangely sounds the voice of bitter woe,
Love Song
© Aldous Huxley
A happy infant, daubed to the eyes in juice
Of peaches that flush bloody at the core,
Naked you bask upon a south-sea shore,
While o'er your tumbling bosom the hair floats loose.
The Cambridge Churchyard
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Our ancient church! its lowly tower,
Beneath the loftier spire,
