Death poems

/ page 266 of 560 /

Order by :

1
. . .
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
. . .
560

At Moonrise And Onwards

© Thomas Hardy

I thought you a fire
On Heron-Plantation Hill,
Dealing out mischief the most dire
To the chattels of men of hire
There in their vill.

Thus ringed eternally, to parted graves,
The sundered doors into one palace home,
Stumbling through age's thickets, we will go,
Faltering but faithful-willing to lie low,
Willing to part, not willing to deny
The lovely past, where all the futures lie.

Sonnet 66: Tired with all these, for restful death I cry

© William Shakespeare

Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,
As to behold desert a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimmed in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,

A May Night on the Mountains

© Henry Lawson

Tis a wonderful time when these hours begin,

These long small hours of night,

Sonnet 64: When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced

© William Shakespeare

When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced
The rich-proud cost of outworn buried age;
When sometime lofty towers I see down-razed
And brass eternal slave to mortal rage;

Sonnet 6: Then let not winter's ragged hand deface

© William Shakespeare

Then let not winter's ragged hand deface
In thee thy summer ere thou be distilled.
Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place
With beauty's treasure ere it be self-killed.

The Problem

© Henry Timrod

Not to win thy favor, maiden, not to steal away thy heart,

Have I ever sought thy presence, ever stooped to any art;

The Fairy Thorn-Tree

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

And so, 'tis said, if to that fairy thorn-tree
You dare to go, you see her ghost so lone,
She prays for love of her that you will aid her,
And give your soul to buy her back her own.

Sonnet 55: Not marble, nor the gilded monuments

© William Shakespeare

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme,
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone besmeared with sluttish time.

For City Spring

© Stephen Vincent Benet

Now grimy April comes again,

Maketh bloom the fire-escapes,

Sonnet 45: The other two, slight air and purging fire

© William Shakespeare

The other two, slight air and purging fire,
Are both with thee, wherever I abide;
The first my thought, the other my desire,
These present-absent with swift motion slide.

The Destiny Of Nations. A Vision.

© Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Auspicious Reverence! Hush all meaner song,
Ere we the deep preluding strain have poured
To the Great Father, only Rightful King,
Eternal Father! King Omnipotent!
To the Will Absolute, the One, the Good!
The I AM, the Word, the Life, the Living God!

Perpetual Winter Never Known

© David Gascoyne

When the light falls on winter evenings

And the river makes no sound in its passing

Sonnet 32: If thou survive my well-contented day

If thou survive my well-contented day
When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover,
And shalt by fortune once more re-survey
These poor rude lines of thy deceasèd lover,

My Soul Is Marching On!

The shining stars are sunk in darkness deep,
The weary sun is dead at night,
The moons soft smile doth fade anon;
But still my soul is marching on!

Sonnet 30: When to the sessions of sweet silent thought

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste.

To the Immortal Memory and Friendship of That Noble Pair, Sir Lucius Cary and Sir H. Morison

The Turn

Brave infant of Saguntum, clear

Ode to the end of Summer

It fades--this green this lavish interval
This time of flowers and fruits,
Of melon ripe along the orchard wall,
Of sun and sails and wrinkled linen suits;
Time when the world seems rather plus than minus
And pollen tickles the allergic sinus.