Death poems
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Impressions Of Francois-Marie Arouet (De Voltaire)
© Ezra Pound
The parks with the swards all over dew,
And grass going glassy with the light on it,
The green stretches where love is and the grapes
Hang in yellow-white and dark clusters ready for pressing.
And if now we can't fit with our time of life
There is not much but its evil left us.
Sire
© William Stanley Merwin
Here comes the shadow not looking where it is going,
And the whole night will fall; it is time.
Here comes the little wind which the hour
Drags with it everywhere like an empty wagon through leaves.
Here comes my ignorance shuffling after them
Asking them what they are doing.
Orpheus Alone
© Mark Strand
It was an adventure much could be made of: a walk
On the shores of the darkest known river,
Idylls of the King: The Passing of Arthur
© Alfred Tennyson
That story which the bold Sir Bedivere,
First made and latest left of all the knights,
Told, when the man was no more than a voice
In the white winter of his age, to those
With whom he dwelt, new faces, other minds.
The Thirteenth Olympic Ode Of Pindar
© Henry James Pye
To Xenophon of Corinth, on his Victory in the Stadic Course, and Pentathlon, at Olympia. ARGUMENT. The Poet begins his Ode, by complimenting the family of Xenophon, on their successes in the Olympic Games, and their hospitality; and then celebrates their country, Corinth, for it's good government, and for the quick genius of it's inhabitants, in the invention of many useful and ornamental Arts. He then implores Jupiter to continue his blessings on them, and to remain propitious to Xenophon; whose exploits he enumerates, together with those of Thessalus and Ptodorus, his father and grandfather. He then launches out again in praise of Corinth and her Citizens, and relates the story of Bellerophon. He then, checking himself for digressing so far, returns to his Hero, relates his various success in the inferior Games of Greece, and concludes with a Prayer to Jupiter.
STROPHE I.
The Tenth Olympic Ode Of Pindar
© Henry James Pye
To Agesidamus, son of Archestratus, an Epizephyrian Locrian, on his Victory obtained by the Cæstus. ARGUMENT. The Poet begins the Ode by apologising to Agesidamus, for having so long delayed composing it, after promising to do it. He then compliments him upon his country, and consoles him for being worsted at the beginning of the contest, till encouraged by Ilias, by relating the same circumstance of Hercules and Patroclus. He then describes the institution of the Olympic Games, by Hercules, after the victory he obtained over Augeas, and the sons of Neptune and Molione; and enumerates those who won the first Prizes in the Athletic Exercises. He then, returning to Agesidamus, and congratulating him on having a Poet to sing his exploits, though after some delay, concludes with praising him for his strength and beauty.
STROPHE I.
Paeans
© Virna Sheard
Oh! I will hold fast to Joy!
I will not let him depart--
He shall close his beautiful rainbow wings
And sing his song in my heart.
waiting on the mayflower
© Evie Shockley
“what, to the american slave, is your 4th of july?”
—frederick douglass
The Black-Faced Sheep
© Donald Hall
My grandfather spent all day searching the valley
and edges of Ragged Mountain,
calling “Ke-day!” as if he brought you salt,
“Ke-day! Ke-day!”
The Bustle in a House (1108)
© Emily Dickinson
The Bustle in a House
The Morning after Death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted opon Earth –
A Sculptor
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
As the ambitious sculptor, tireless, lifts
Chisel and hammer to the block at hand,
Before my half-formed character I stand
And ply the shining tools of mental gifts.
Siberia
© James Clarence Mangan
IN Siberia's wastes
The ice-wind's breath
Woundeth like the toothed steel;
Lost Siberia doth reveal
Only blight and death.
To tonsured monks and dreadlocked Rastas
© Kabir
To tonsured monks and dreadlocked Rastas,
To idol worshippers and idol smashers,
The Pleasures of Imagination: Book The Second
© Mark Akenside
Till all its orbs and all its worlds of fire
Be loosen'd from their seats; yet still serene,
The unconquer'd mind looks down upon the wreck;
And ever stronger as the storms advance,
Firm through the closing ruin holds his way,
Where nature calls him to the destin'd goal.
