Death poems
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The Kaiser's Feast
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Why fell there silence on the chord
Beneath the harper's hand?
And suddenly, from that rich board,
Why rose the wassail-band?
Inside My Head
© Robert Creeley
Inside my head a common room,
a common place, a common tune,
a common wealth, a common doom
Lines Suggested By The Last Words Of Berengarius. Ob. Anno Dom. 1088
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
No more 'twixt conscience staggering and the Pope
Soon shall I now before my God appear,
By him to be acquitted, as I hope;
By him to be condemned, as I fear.--
March: An Ode
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
I
Ere frost-flower and snow-blossom faded and fell, and the splendour of winter had passed out of sight,
Autumn.
© Robert Crawford
I in the autumn of my days
Stand by a place of tears,
And hear the unborn children weep
Within the unborn years;
Galatea
© Henry Kendall
A SILVER slope, a fall of firs, a league of gleaming grasses,
And fiery cones, and sultry spurs, and swarthy pits and passes!
Sonnet L: Beauty, Sweet Love
© Samuel Daniel
Beauty, sweet love, is like the morning dew
Whose short refresh upon the tender green
Count Gismond—Aix in Provence
© Robert Browning
Christ God who savest man, save most
Of men Count Gismond who saved me!
Count Gauthier, when he chose his post,
Chose time and place and company
To suit it; when he struck at length
My honour, 't was with all his strength.
Italy : 27. The Pilgrim
© Samuel Rogers
It was an hour of universal joy.
The lark was up and at the gate of heaven,
Singing, as sure to enter when he came;
The butterfly was basking in my path,
The Invitation
© George Herbert
Come ye hither all, whose taste
Is your waste;
Save your cost, and mend your fare.
God is here prepar'd and drest,
And the feast,
God, in whom all dainties are.
A Hymn to God the Father
© Benjamin Jonson
Hear me, O God!
A broken heart
Is my best part.
Use still thy rod,
That I may prove
Therein thy Love.
Honour's Martyr
© Emily Jane Brontë
The moon is full this winter night;
The stars are clear, though few;
And every window glistens bright
With leaves of frozen dew.
The Fatal Sisters: An Ode
© Thomas Gray
(FROM THE NORSE TONGUE)
Now the storm begins to lower,
(Haste, the loom of Hell prepare.)
Iron-sleet of arrowy shower
Hurtles in the darken'd air.
Astrophel And Stella-Eighth Song
© Sir Philip Sidney
In a grove most rich of shade,
Where birds wanton music made,
May, then young, his pied weeds showing,
New perfum'd with flowers growing,
