Death poems
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Another Chance
© Henry Van Dyke
A DRAMATIC LYRIC
Come, give me back my life again, you heavy-handed Death!
Simon Legree
© Vachel Lindsay
He wore hip-boots, and would wade all day
To capture his slaves that had fled away.
BUT HE WENT DOWN TO THE DEVIL.
The Sleepers
© Sylvia Plath
No map traces the street
Where those two sleepers are.
We have lost track of it.
They lie as if under water
In a blue, unchanging light,
The French window ajar
The Flower-Garden
© Richard Monckton Milnes
O pensive Sister! thy tear--darkened gaze
I understand, whene'er thou look'st upon
The Garden's gilded green and colour'd blaze,
The gay society of flowers and sun.
Be With Those Who Help Your Being
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Be with those who help your being.
Don't sit with indifferent people, whose breath
comes cold out of their mouths.
Not these visible forms, your work is deeper.
The Angel Of The Doves.
© James Brunton Stephens
THE angels stood in the court of the King,
And into the midst, through the open door,
Of The Nature Of Things: Book V - Part 06 - Origins And Savage Period Of Mankind
© Lucretius
But mortal man
Was then far hardier in the old champaign,
Twilight Monologue
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
CAN it be that the glory of manhood has passed,
That its purpose, its passion, its might,
Have all paled with the fervor that fed them at last,
As the twilight comes down with the night?
The Stirrup Cup
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Come, drink a stirrup cup with me,
Before we close our rouse.
Genesis BK XI
© Caedmon
ll. 442-460) Then God's enemy began to make him ready, equipped
in war-gear, with a wily heart. He set his helm of darkness on
The Whirlwind Road
© Edwin Markham
THE MUSES wrapped in mysteries of light
Came in a rush of music on the night;
The Road to Avernus, Scene XI 'Ten Paces Off'
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
I've won the two tosses from Prescot;
Now hear me, and hearken and heed,
And pull that vile flower from your waistcoat,
And throw down that beast of a weed;
Sonnet XLIII: How Do I Love Thee?
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
sonnet XXXII. Life And Death. 4.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
IF at one door stands life to cheat our trust,
And at another, death, to mock because
We thought life's promise good; if all that was
And is and should be ends in fume and dust
