Death poems
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El Harith
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Lightly took she her leave of me, Asmá--u,
went no whit as a guest who outstays a welcome;
Went forgetting our trysts, Burkát Shemmá--u,
all the joys of our love, our love's home, Khalsá--u.
In Sickness
© Augustus Montague Toplady
Jesus, since I with thee am one,
Confirm my soul in thee,
And still continue to tread down
The man of sin in me.
Agnes And The Hill-Man
© William Morris
Weird laid he on her, sore sickness he wrought,
Fowl are a-singing.
That self-same hour to death was she brought.
Agnes, fair Agnes!
The Present Crisis
© James Russell Lowell
When a deed is done for Freedom, through the broad earth's aching breast
Runs a thrill of joy prophetic, trembling on from east to west,
And the slave, where'er he cowers, feels the soul within him climb
To the awful verge of manhood, as the energy sublime
Of a century bursts full-blossomed on the thorny stem of Time.
To Death
© Jens Baggesen
Death! I have no cause to fear you!
Safe my path through life I tread;
If I'm Here, then I'm not near you,
If you are here, then I am dead.
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: VI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
The Lyons fair! In truth it was a Heaven
For idlers' eyes, a feast of curious things,
Swings, roundabouts, and shows, the Champions Seven,
Dramas of battles and the deaths of kings,
Idyll XXII. The Sons of Leda
© Theocritus
He spoke, and clutched a hollow shell, and blew
His clarion. Straightway to the shadowy pine
Clustering they came, as loud it pealed and long,
Bebrycia's bearded sons; and Castor too,
The peerless in the lists, went forth and called
From the Magnesian ship the Heroes all.
A Legend of Bregenz
© Adelaide Anne Procter
GIRT round with rugged mountains the fair Lake Constance lies;
In her blue heart reflected, shine back the starry skies;
And, watching each white cloudlet float silently and slow,
You think a piece of heaven lies on our earth below!
For Weeks After the Funeral by Andrea Hollander Budy: American Life in Poetry #96 Ted Kooser, U.S. P
© Ted Kooser
Grief can endure a long, long time. A deep loss is very reluctant to let us set it aside, to push it into a corner of memory. Here the Arkansas poet, Andrea Hollander Budy, gives us a look at one family's adjustment to a death.
For Weeks After the Funeral
The house felt like the opera,
the audience in their seats, hushed, ready,
but the cast not yet arrived.
One Life
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
OH, I am hurt to death, my Love;
The shafts of Fate have pierced my striving heart,
The Lady of the Lake: Canto I. - The Chase
© Sir Walter Scott
Introduction.
Harp of the North! that mouldering long hast hung
Song Before Death: From the French
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
SWEET MOTHER, in a minutes span
Death parts thee and my love of thee;
Sweet love, that yet art living man,
Come back, true love, to comfort me.
Back, ah, come back! ah wellaway!
But my love comes not any day.
Sonnet. Written On A Blank Page In Shakespeare's Poems, Facing 'A Lover's Complaint'
© John Keats
Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art --
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
Dolce Far Niente
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
LET the world roll blindly on!
Give me shallow, give me sun,
And a perfumed eve as this is:
Let me lie,
Enoch Arden
© Alfred Tennyson
At length she spoke `O Enoch, you are wise;
And yet for all your wisdom well know I
That I shall look upon your face no more.'
To Night
© Joseph Blanco White
Mysterious Night! when our first parent knew
Thee from report divine, and heard thy name,
Ode To Apollo
© James Lister Cuthbertson
"Tandem venias precamur
Nube candentes humeros amictus
Augur Apollo."
A Day's Ride
© Anonymous
Bold are the mounted robbers who on stolen horses ride
And bold the mounted troopers who patrol the Sydney side;
But few of them, though flash they be, can ride, and few can fight
As Walker did, for life and death, with Ward the other night.
