Death poems
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Hesperia
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
OUT OF the golden remote wild west where the sea without shore is,
Full of the sunset, and sad, if at all, with the fulness of joy,
The House Of Dust: Part 01: 07:
© Conrad Aiken
'The bells have just struck twelve: I should be sleeping.
But I cannot delay any longer to write and tell you.
The woman is dead.
She diedyou know the way. Just as we planned.
Smiling, with open sunlit eyes.
Smiling upon the outstretched fatal hand . . .'
Paracelsus: Part IV: Paracelsus Aspires
© Robert Browning
Festus.
So strange
That I must hope, indeed, your messenger
Has mingled his own fancies with the words
Purporting to be yours.
In The Harbour: The City And The Sea
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Life-giving, death-giving, which will it be;
O breath of the merciful, merciless Sea?
At Last
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
In youth, when blood was warm and fancy high,
I mocked at death. How many a quaint conceit
The Flowers Of Helicon
© Richard Monckton Milnes
The solitudes of Helicon
Are rife with gay and scented flowers,
Shining the marble rocks upon,
Or 'mid the valley's oaken bowers;
Alsace-Lorraine
© George Meredith
Yet the like aerial growths may chance be the delicate sprays,
Infant of Earth's most urgent in sap, her fierier zeal
For entry on Life's upper fields: and soul thus flourishing pays
The martyr's penance, mark for brutish in man to heel.
The School-Mistress
© William Shenstone
Auditae voces, vagitus et ingens,
Infantunque animae flentes in limine primo. ~ Virg.
Alexander And Phillip
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
The cypress spread their gloom
Like a cloak from the noontide beam,
He flung back his dusty plume,
And plunged in the silver stream;
He plunged like the young steed, fierce and wild,
He was borne away like the feeble child.
Musagetes
© Madison Julius Cawein
For the mountains' hoarse greetings came hollow
From stormy wind-chasms and caves,
And I heard their wild cataracts wallow
Huge bulks in long spasms of waves,
And that Demon said, "Lo! you must follow!
And our path is o'er myriads of graves."
Goblins Of The Steppes
© Alexander Pushkin
Stormy clouds delirious straying,
Showers of whirling snowflakes white,
Psalm 23
© Sir Philip Sidney
The Lord, the Lord, my Shepherd is,
And so can never I
Taste misery:
He rests me in green pastures His:
By waters still and sweet,
He guides my feet.
Davideis: A Sacred Poem Of The Troubles Of David (excerpt)
© Abraham Cowley
BOOK I (excerpt)
I sing the man who Judah's sceptre bore
The Last Hero
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
The wind blew out from Bergen from the dawning to the day,
There was a wreck of trees and fall of towers a score of miles away,
The Wind And The Whirlwind
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
I have a thing to say. But how to say it?
I have a cause to plead. But to what ears?
How shall I move a world by lamentation,
A world which heeded not a Nation's tears?
