Death poems

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Just as my fingers on these keys
Make music, so the self-same sounds
On my spirit make a music, too.
Music is feeling, then, not sound;
And thus it is that what I feel,
Here in this room, desiring you,

Burial of the Dead

© John Keble

I thought to meet no more, so dreary seem'd

Death's interposing veil, and thou so pure,

The Lord's Call To His Children

© John Newton

Let us adore the grace that seeks
To draw our hearts above!
Attend, 'tis God the Saviour speaks,
And every word is love.

The Pure in Heart Shall See God

© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

In one grand but gentle chorus,
Floating to the starry dome,
Came the words that brought them nearer,
Words that told of "Home, Sweet Home."

On the Earl of Essex

© Henry King

Essex twice made unhappy by a Wife,
Yet Marry'd worse unto the Peoples strife:
He who by two Divorces did untie
His Bond of Wedlock and of Loyalty:

Millenial Hymn to Lord Shiva

© Kathleen Raine

Earth no longer
hymns the Creator,
the seven days of wonder,
the Garden is over

Ode on Intimations of Immortality

© William Wordsworth

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,

The earth, and every common sight

In the Beck

© Kathleen Raine

There is a fish, that quivers in the pool,
itself a shadow, but its shadow, clear.
Catch it again and again, it still is there.

Far-Darting Apollo

© Kathleen Raine

I saw the sun step like a gentleman
Dressed in black and proud as sin.
I saw the sun walk across London
Like a young M. P., risen to the occasion.

Robert the Bruce (To Douglas in Dying)

© Edwin Muir

'MY life is done, yet all remains,

The breath has gone, the image not,

Change

© Kathleen Raine

Change
Said the sun to the moon,
You cannot stay.

Sappho

© Christina Georgina Rossetti

I sigh at day-dawn, and I sigh
When the dull day is passing by.
I sigh at evening, and again
I sigh when night brings sleep to men.

The Chariot

© Emily Dickinson

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

In The Willow Shade

I sat beneath a willow tree,
Where water falls and calls;
While fancies upon fancies solaced me,
Some true, and some were false.

Who shall deliver me?

God strengthen me to bear myself;
That heaviest weight of all to bear,
Inalienable weight of care.

Silent Noon

Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragon-fly
Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky: -
So this wing'd hour is dropt to us from above.
Oh! clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower,
This close-companioned inarticulate hour
When twofold silence was the song of love.

The Right Honourable Edmund Burke

Why mourns the ingenuous Moralist, whose mind

Science has stored, and Piety refined,

Kretschmann

Love may trace his echoing footsteps, yet we never more shall meet
Rugged Kretschmann, the musician, plodding down a Sydney street,
Never see the low broad figure, massive head and shaggy mane
And the quiet furrowed features, never hear his voice again.