Death poems
/ page 333 of 560 /
Chanson dAmour
© Gace Brulé
This absence from my own countrys
So long, it brings me to deaths door,
The Landlord
© James Russell Lowell
What boot your houses and your lands?
In spite of close-drawn deed and fence,
Like water, twixt your cheated hands,
They slip into the graveyard's sands,
And mock your ownership's pretence.
A Satirical Elegy on the Death of a Late Famous General
© Jonathan Swift
His Grace! impossible! what dead!
Of old age too, and in his bed!
The Christ Of The Andes
© Edwin Markham
After volcanoes husht with snows,
Up where the wide-winged condor goes,
Great Aconcagua, husht and high,
Sends down the ancient peace of the sky.
What The Snow Man Said
© Vachel Lindsay
The Moons a snowball. See the drifts
Of white that cross the sphere.
The Moons a snowball, melted down
A dozen times a year.
Adelaide Ironside.
© James Brunton Stephens
(Australian Painter. Born at Sydney, 17th November, 1831. Died at
Rome, 15th November, 1867.)
[GUARDIAN ANGEL.]
AN ELEGY Upon Mrs. Kirk unfortunately drowned in Thames
© Henry King
For all the Ship-wracks, and the liquid graves
Lost men have gain'd within the furrow'd waves,
The Sea hath fin'd and for our wrongs paid use,
When its wrought foam a Venus did produce.
Maud; A Monodrama (from Part II)
© Alfred Tennyson
O that 'twere possible
After long grief and pain
To find the arms of my true love
Round me once again!
Beowulf
© Charles Baudelaire
LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings
of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,
we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!
Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,
The Rope-Maker
© Emile Verhaeren
Of old--as one in sleep, life, errant, strayed
Its wondrous morns and fabled evenings through;
When God's right hand toward far Canaan's blue
Traced golden paths, deep in the twilight shade.
Honours -- Part II.
© Jean Ingelow
As one who, journeying, checks the rein in haste
Because a chasm doth yawn across his way
Too wide for leaping, and too steeply faced
For climber to essay-
Of the Progress of the Soul: The Second Anniversary
© John Donne
(excerpt)
OF THE PROGRESS OF THE SOUL
Wherein,
by occasion of the religious death of Mistress
On A View Of Pasadena From The Hills
© Yvor Winters
From the high terrace porch I watch the dawn.
No light appears, though dark has mostly gone,
Gravelly Run
© Archie Randolph Ammons
I don’t know somehow it seems sufficient
to see and hear whatever coming and going is,
losing the self to the victory
of stones and trees,
of bending sandpit lakes, crescent
round groves of dwarf pine:
The Idlers Calendar. Twelve Sonnets For The Months. September
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
FEAST OF ST. PARTRIDGE
The only saint in all our calendar
Is good St. Partridge. 'Tis his feast to--day,
The happiest day of all a happy year,
The Soul Of The Anzac
© Roderic Quinn
THE form that was mine was brown and hard,
And thewed and muscled, and tall and straight;
Still, Citizen Sparrow
© Lola Ridge
Still, citizen sparrow, this vulture which you call
Unnatural, let him but lumber again to air
Over the rotten office, let him bear
The carrion ballast up, and at the tall
Marching Men
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
Under the level winter sky
I saw a thousand Christs go by.
They sang an idle song and free
As they went up to calvary.
The animals in that country
© Margaret Atwood
the fox run
politely to earth, the huntsmen
standing around him, fixed
in their tapestry of manners
"I know that all beneath the moon decays"
© William Drummond (of Hawthornden)
I know that all beneath the moon decays,
And what by mortals in this world is brought,
