Death poems
/ page 339 of 560 /
Gareth And Lynette
© Alfred Tennyson
To whom the mother said,
'True love, sweet son, had risked himself and climbed,
And handed down the golden treasure to him.'
Thirty-Eight. To Mrs ____y
© Charlotte Turner Smith
In early youths unclouded scene,
The brilliant morning of eighteen,
With health and sprightly joy elate,
We gazed on youths enchanting spring,
Nor thought how quickly time would bring
The mournful period thirty-eight!
Atlantis
© Hart Crane
Through the bound cable strands, the arching path
Upward, veering with light, the flight of strings,
Dead Man’s Dump
© Isaac Rosenberg
The plunging limbers over the shattered track
Racketed with their rusty freight,
Stuck out like many crowns of thorns,
And the rusty stakes like sceptres old
To stay the flood of brutish men
Upon our brothers dear.
Failures in Infinitives
© Bernadette Mayer
why am i doing this? Failure
to keep my work in order so as
Music For The Dying
© Robert Fuller Murray
Ye who will help me in my dying pain,
Speak not a word: let all your voices cease.
Let me but hear some soft harmonious strain,
And I shall die at peace.
A Parody
© Charles Lamb
Lazy-bones, lazy-bones, wake up and peep;
The Cat's in the cupboard, your Mother's asleep.
Sonnet XXXIX. Bayard Taylor.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
CAN one so strong in hope, so rich in bloom
That promised fruit of nobler worth than all
He yet had given, drop thus with sudden fall?
The busy brain no more its work resume?
Faringdon Hill. Book II
© Henry James Pye
The sultry hours are past, and Phbus now
Spreads yellower rays along the mountain's brow:
Youth in Arms
© Harold Monro
HAPPY boy, happy boy,
David the immortal-willed,
Youth a thousand thousand times
Slain, but not once killed,
Swaggering again today
In the old contemptuous way;
God of the Open Air
© Henry Van Dyke
But One, but One,-ah, child most dear,
And perfect image of the Love Unseen,-
Walked every day in pastures green,
And all his life the quiet waters by,
Reading their beauty with a tranquil eye.
Sohrab and Rustum: An Episode
© Matthew Arnold
"Ferood, and ye, Persians and Tartars, hear!
Let there be truce between the hosts to-day.
But choose a champion from the Persian lords
To fight our champion Sohrab, man to man."
Jean Chouan
© Victor Marie Hugo
The Whites fled, and the Blues fired down the glade.
A hill the plain commanded and surveyed,
And round this hill, of trees and verdure bare,
Wild forests closed th' horizon everywhere.
James Lionel Michael
© Henry Kendall
Latter leaves, in Autumns breath,
White and sere,
Sanctify the scholars death,
Lying here.
Lines: The cold earth slept below
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
The cold earth slept below;
Above the cold sky shone;
And all around,
Sonnet XLV: Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night
© Samuel Daniel
XLV
Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night,
An Elegie on Henry, fourth Erle of Northumberlande
© John Skelton
The noblenes of the north, this valiant lord and knight,
As man that was innocent of trechery or traine,
Pressed forth boldly to withstand the myght,
And, lyke marciall Hector, he faught them agayne,
Trustyng in noble men that were with him there;
Bot al they fled from hym for falshode or fere.
Ode To The Austrian Socialists
© Stephen Vincent Benet
Let us remember Karl Marx Hof, Goethe Hof,
The one called Matteoti and all the rest.
They were little cities built by people for people.
They were shelled by six-inch guns.
It is strange to go
Sonnet XXX: Still In the Trace
© Samuel Daniel
Still in the trace of my tormented thought,
My ceaseless cares must march on to my death;
