Death poems

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The Prophecy Of St. Oran: Part IV

© Mathilde Blind

I.

It is the night: across the starless waste

The Dark Lady Sonnets (127 - 154)

© William Shakespeare

CXXVII
In the old age black was not counted fair,
Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name;
But now is black beauty's successive heir,

But not thus always are our dreams benign;
Oft are they miscreationsgloomier worlds,
Crowded tempestuously with wrongs and fears,
More ghastly than the actual ever knew,
And rent with racking noises, such as should
Go thundering only through the wastes of hell.

The Charnel Rose: A Symphony

© Conrad Aiken

And a silent star slipped golden down the darkness,
Down the great wall, leaving no trace in the sky,
And years went with it, and worlds. And he dreamed still
Of a fleeter shadow among the shadows running,
Foam into foam, without a gesture or cry,
Leaving him there, alone, on a lonely hill.

The Three Knocks

© Roderic Quinn

WHEN the owl that scared the mouse
Fluffed his feathers and sat still,
And the night around was chill,
On the door of yonder house

The Grave Yard

© Jones Very

My heart grows sick before the wide-spread death,

That walks and speaks in seeming life around;

Death Of Archbishop Turpin. (From The French)

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Then Turpin died in service of Charlon,
In battle great and eke great orison;--
'Gainst Pagan host alway strong champion;
God grant to him His holy benison.

Englysh Metamorphosis

© Thomas Chatterton

BOOKE st.

WHANNE Scythyannes, salvage as the wolves theie chacde,

Tale IV

© George Crabbe

harm;
Give me thy pardon," and he look'd alarm:
Meantime the prudent Dinah had contrived
Her soul to question, and she then revived.
"See! my good friend," and then she raised her

A Wedding In War-Time

© Gilbert Keith Chesterton

Our God who made two lovers in a garden,

And smote them separate and set them free,

Penetration And Trust

© George Meredith

Sleek as a lizard at round of a stone,
The look of her heart slipped out and in.
Sweet on her lord her soft eyes shone,
As innocents clear of a shade of sin.

For Your Boy And Mine

© Edgar Albert Guest

Your dream and my dream is not that we shall rest,
But that our children after us shall know life at its best;
For all we care about ourselvesa crust of bread or two,
A place to sleep and clothes to wear is all that we'd pursue.
We'd tramp the world on sunny days, both light of heart and mind,
And give no thought to days to come or days we leave behind.

A Memory.

© Robert Crawford

She had an other-worldly air,
So like a flower she grew,
As if her thoughts and feelings were
The only life she knew.

Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book VIII -- Bhishma-Badha - (Fall of Bhishma)

All negotiations for a peaceful partition of the Kuru kingdom having
failed, both parties now prepared for a battle, perhaps the most
sanguinary that was fought on the plains of India in the ancient
times. It was a battle of nations, for all warlike races in Northern
India took a share in it.

Edith Cavell

She was binding the wounds of her enemies when they came

The lint in her hand unrolled.

Preparatory Meditations - Second Series: 7

All dull, my Lord, my spirits flat, and dead,
All water-soaked and sapless to the skin.
Oh! Screw me up and make my spirit's bed
Thy quickening virtue, for my ink is dim,
My pencil blunt. Doth Joseph type out Thee?
Heralds of angels sing out, "Bow the knee."