Death poems
/ page 238 of 560 /The Grate Fire
© Edgar Albert Guest
I'm sorry for a fellow if he cannot look and see
In a grate fire's friendly flaming all the joys which used to be.
The Question
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Now here is where I fail to understand,
And put my question in all reverence,
On bended knee with head most lowly bent,
To the All-High, All-Knowing Providence.
Henry King,{ Who chewed bits of String, and was cut off in Dreadful Agonies}
© Hilaire Belloc
The Chief Defect of Henry King
Was chewing little bits of String.
At last he swallowed some which tied
Itself in ugly Knots inside.
Lines: That time is dead for ever, child!
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
That time is dead for ever, child!
Drowned, frozen, dead for ever!
We look on the past
Yin And Yang
© Kenneth Rexroth
It is spring once more in the Coast Range
Warm, perfumed, under the Easter moon.
A Priest
© Norman Rowland Gale
NATURE and he went ever hand in hand
Across the hills and down the lonely lane;
If Death Be Good
© Bliss William Carman
(Sappho LXXIV)
If death be good,
Why do the gods not die?
If life be ill,
Curtius
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
Why, love, how darkly gaze thine eyes in mine!
If loved I dismal thoughts I well could deem
Thou sawest not the blue of my fond eyes,
But looked between the lips of that dread pit,-
O Jove! to name it seems to curse the air
With chills of death! We'll speak not of it, Curtius.
The Wanderer: A Vision: Canto IV
© Richard Savage
Still o'er my mind wild Fancy holds her sway,
Still on strange visionary land I stray.
Now scenes crowd thick! now indistinct appear!
Swift glide the months, and turn the varying year!
A Common Thought
© Henry Timrod
Somewhere on this earthly planet
In the dust of flowers to be,
In the dewdrop, in the sunshine,
Sleeps a solemn day for me.
Sonnet. "Oh weary, weary world! how full thou art"
© Frances Anne Kemble
Oh weary, weary world! how full thou art
Of sin, of sorrow, and all evil things!
The Giaour: A Fragment Of A Turkish Tale
© George Gordon Byron
No breath of air to break the wave
That rolls below the Athenian's grave,
That tomb which, gleaming o'er the cliff
First greets the homeward-veering skiff
High o'er the land he saved in vain;
When shall such Hero live again?
The Farmer's Ingle
© Robert Fergusson
Et multo in primis hilarans conviuia Baccho
Ante focum, si frigus erit, (si messis, in umbra,
Vina novum fundam calathis Ariusia nectar)
Grand Chorus Of Birds
© Aristophanes
Come on then, ye dwellers by nature in darkness, and like to the
leaves' generations,
Compensation
© Giordano Bruno
The moth beholds not death as forth he flies
Into the splendor of the living flame;
To A Dead Woman
© Henry Cuyler Bunner
Not a kiss in life; but one kiss, at life's end,
I have set on the face of Death in trust for thee.
Through long years keep it fresh on thy lips, O friend!
At the gate of Silence give it back to me.
Thou wert far off, and in the sight of heaven
© Jean Ingelow
Thou wert far off, and in the sight of heaven
Dead. And thy Father would not this should be;
And now thou livest, it is all forgiven;
Think on it, O my soul, He kissè¤ thee!
Love In The Summer Hills
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Love in the summer hills,
With youth to mock at ills,
And kisses sweet to cheat
Our idle tears away.