Death poems

 / page 238 of 560 /
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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.

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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.

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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.

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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

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Yin And Yang

© Kenneth Rexroth

It is spring once more in the Coast Range

Warm, perfumed, under the Easter moon.

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A Priest

© Norman Rowland Gale

NATURE and he went ever hand in hand 

Across the hills and down the lonely lane; 

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If Death Be Good

© Bliss William Carman

(Sappho LXXIV)
 If death be good,
 Why do the gods not die?
 If life be ill,

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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.

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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!

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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.

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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!

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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?

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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)

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Grand Chorus Of Birds

© Aristophanes

Come on then, ye dwellers by nature in darkness, and like to the

  leaves' generations,

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Reading in Wartime

© Edwin Muir

Boswell by my bed,

Tolstoy on my table;

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Compensation

© Giordano Bruno

The moth beholds not death as forth he flies

  Into the splendor of the living flame;

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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.

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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 kiss褠thee!

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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.