Death poems

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The Reveille

© Francis Bret Harte

Hark! I hear the tramp of thousands,
And of armed men the hum;
Lo! a nation`s hosts have gathered
Round the quick alarming drum,--

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On the Death of Dr. Robert Levet

© Samuel Johnson

Condemn'd to Hope's delusive mine,
As on we toil from day to day,
By sudden blasts or slow decline,
Our social comforts drop away.

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I Have A Rendezvous With Life

© Countee Cullen

I have a rendezvous with Life,

In days I hope will come,

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The Friends of Fallen Fortunes

© Henry Lawson

The battlefield behind us,

  And night loomed on the track;

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On Burning Some Old Letters

© James Russell Lowell

Rarest woods were coarse and rough,
Sweetest spice not sweet enough,
Too impure all earthly fire
For this sacred funeral-pyre;
These rich relics must suffice
For their own dear sacrifice.

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Mons Angelorum

© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall

Joshua –O father of my soul, I cannot tell.
  The burden of the Lord is heavy on me,
  And I am broken beneath it.

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Of Blessed Memory

© Eugene Field

I often wonder mother loves to creep
Up to the garret where a cupboard stands,
And sit upon the musty floor and weep,
Holding a baby’s dresses in her hands.

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Fragment Of A Meditation

© Allen Tate

In the beginning the irresponsible Verb
Connived with chaos whence I've seen it start
Riddles in the head for the nervous heart
To count its beat on: all beginnings run
Like water the easiest way or like birds
Fly on their cool imponderable flood.

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Economy, A Rhapsody, Addressed to Young Poets

© William Shenstone

Insanis; omnes gelidis quaecunqne lacernis
Sunt tibi, Nasones Virgiliosque vides. ~Mart.
Imitation.
--Thou know'st not what thou say'st;
In garments that scarce fence them from the cold
Our Ovids and our Virgils you behold.

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Here And There

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

HERE the warm sunshine fills
Like wine of gods the deepening, cup-shaped dells,
Embossed with marvellous flowers; the happy rills
Roam through the autumnal fields whose rich increase

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The Secret Whisky Cure

© Henry Lawson

’Twas a common sordid marriage, and there’s little new to tell—
Save the pub to him was Heaven and his own home was a hell:
With the office in between them—purgatory to be sure—
And, as far as Jones could make out—well, there wasn’t any cure.

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Horace To Maecenas

© Eugene Field

How breaks my heart to hear you say

  You feel the shadows fall about you!

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Rearmament

© Robinson Jeffers

These grand and fatal movements toward death: the grandeur

of the mass

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Rhymed Plea For Tolerance - Dialogue II.

© John Kenyon


A.—
  By no faint shame withheld from general gaze,
  'Tis thus, my friend, we bask us in the blaze;
  Where deeds, more surface-smooth than inly bright,
  Snatch up a transient lustre from the light.

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Cadland, Southampton River

© William Lisle Bowles

If ever sea-maid, from her coral cave,

  Beneath the hum of the great surge, has loved

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Constantia's Song

© Abraham Cowley

Time fly with greater speed away,
Add feathers to thy wings,
Till thy haste in flying brings
That wished-for and expected Day.

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The Shadows

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

"How many have gone?" was the question of old
Ere Time our bright ring of its jewels bereft;
Alas! for too often the death-bell has tolled,
And the question we ask is, "How many are left?"

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Written Out [1]

© Henry Lawson

Sing the song of the reckless, who care not what they do;
Sing the song of a sinner and the song of a writer, too—
Down in a pub in the alleys, in a dark and dirty hole,
With every soul a drunkard and the boss with never a soul.

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The India Wharf

© Sara Teasdale

Here in the velvet stillness
The wide sown fields fall to the faint horizon,
Sleeping in starlight. . . .