Death poems
/ page 30 of 560 /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,--
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.
I Have A Rendezvous With Life
© Countee Cullen
I have a rendezvous with Life,
In days I hope will come,
The Friends of Fallen Fortunes
© Henry Lawson
The battlefield behind us,
And night loomed on the track;
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.
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.
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 babys dresses in her hands.
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.
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.
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
The Secret Whisky Cure
© Henry Lawson
Twas a common sordid marriage, and theres little new to tell
Save the pub to him was Heaven and his own home was a hell:
With the office in between thempurgatory to be sure
And, as far as Jones could make outwell, there wasnt any cure.
Horace To Maecenas
© Eugene Field
How breaks my heart to hear you say
You feel the shadows fall about you!
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.
Cadland, Southampton River
© William Lisle Bowles
If ever sea-maid, from her coral cave,
Beneath the hum of the great surge, has loved
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.
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?"
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.
The India Wharf
© Sara Teasdale
Here in the velvet stillness
The wide sown fields fall to the faint horizon,
Sleeping in starlight. . . .