Death poems
/ page 394 of 560 /
True Enjoyment.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
To join the angelic choir above,
In heaven's bright mansions to abide,--
No diff'rence at the change thoult prove.
The Garlands.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
KLOPSTOCK would lead us away from Pindus; no longer
for laurel
May we be eager--the homely acorn alone must content us;
Yet he himself his more-than-epic crusade is conducting
The First Walpurgis-night.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Would ye, then, so rashly act?
Would ye instant death attract?
Know ye not the cruel threats
Ode To The Departing Year
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
I.
Spirit who sweepest the wild harp of Time!
It is most hard, with an untroubled ear
Thy dark inwoven harmonies to hear!
Faces
© Lola Ridge
A late snow beats
With cold white fists upon the tenements -
Hurriedly drawing blinds and shutters,
Like tall old slatterns
Pulling aprons about their heads.
The Brethren.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
SLUMBER and Sleep, two brethren ordain'd by the gods to their
service,
You'll Love Me Yet
© Robert Browning
You'll love me yet!and I can tarry
Your love's protracted growing:
June reared that bunch of flowers you carry
From seeds of April's sowing.
An Autumn Garden
© Bliss William Carman
For the ancient and virile nurture
Of the teeming primordial ground,
For the splendid gospel of color,
Winter Sunrise
© Robert Laurence Binyon
It is early morning within this room; without,
Dark and damp; without and within, stillness
Waiting for day: not a sound but a listening air.
The Bride Of Corinth.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[First published in Schiller's Horen, in connection
with a
friendly contest in the art of ballad-writing between the two
great poets, to which many of their finest works are owing.]
Three Odes To My Friend.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[These three Odes are addressed to a certain
Behrisch, who was tutor to Count Lindenau, and of whom Goethe gives
an odd account at the end of the Seventh Book of his Autobiography.]
A Tune
© Arthur Symons
A foolish rhythm turns in my idle head
As a windmill turns in the wind on an empty sky.
The King Of Thule.*
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
(* This ballad is also introduced in Faust,
where it is sung by Margaret.)IN Thule lived a monarch,Still faithful to the grave,
To whom his dying mistressA golden goblet gave.Beyond all price he deem'd it,He quaff'd it at each feast;
And, when he drain'd that goblet,His tears to flow ne'er ceas'd.And when he felt death near him,His cities o'er he told,
Thoughts On Jesus Christ's Descent Into Hell.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[THE remarkable Poem of which this is a literal
but faint representation, was written when Goethe was only sixteen
years old. It derives additional interest from the fact of its being
the very earliest piece of his that is preserved. The few other
pieces included by Goethe under the title of Religion and Church
are polemical, and devoid of interest to the English reader.]
Prometheus.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Didst thou e'er fancy
That life I should learn to hate,
And fly to deserts,
Because not all
My blossoming dreams grew ripe?
At Darien Bridge
© James Dickey
Standing deep in their ankle chains,
Ankle-deep in the water, to smite
