Death poems
/ page 411 of 560 /Death of the Stag
© James Thomson
The stag, too, singled from the herd, where long
He ranged, the branching monarch of the shade,
Before the tempest drives. At first, in speed
He, sprightly, puts his faith, and, roused by fear,
Eyes Fastened With Pins
© Charles Simic
How much death works,
No one knows what a long
Day he puts in. The little
Wife always alone
All Day It Has Rained
© Alun Lewis
As of ourselves or those whom we
For years have loved, and will again
Tomorrow maybe love; but now it is the rain
Possesses us entirely, the twilight and the rain.
Transfiguration
© Louisa May Alcott
Mysterious death! who in a single hour
Life's gold can so refine
And by thy art divine
Change mortal weakness to immortal power!
Thoreau's Flute
© Louisa May Alcott
We sighing said, "Our Pan is dead;
His pipe hangs mute beside the river
Around it wistful sunbeams quiver,
But Music's airy voice is fled.
At a Pantomime. By a Bilious One
© William Schwenck Gilbert
An Actor sits in doubtful gloom,
His stock-in-trade unfurled,
In a damp funereal dressing-room
In the Theatre Royal, World.
Olney Hymn 20: Old Testament Gospel
© William Cowper
Israel in ancient days
Not only had a view
Of Sinai in a blaze,
But learn'd the Gospel too;
The types and figures were a glass,
In which thy saw a Saviour's face.
The Parting II
© Anne Brontë
I knew her when her eye was bright,
I knew her when her step was light
And blithesome as a mountain doe's,
And when her cheek was like the rose,
And when her voice was full and free,
And when her smile was sweet to see.
My Little Soul I Never Saw
© Grace Fallow Norton
My little soul I never saw,
Nor can I count its days;
I do not know its wondrous law
And yet I know its ways.
The Fathers Curse
© Victor Marie Hugo
M. ST. VALLIER (_an aged nobleman, from whom King Francis I.
decoyed his daughter, the famous beauty, Diana of
Poitiers_).
The Death Of A Fly
© Russell Edson
There was once a man who disguised himself as a
housefly and went about the neighborhood depositing
flyspecks.
Well, he has to do something hasn't he? said someone to
Midsummer Midnight Skies
© William Ernest Henley
The spell-bound ships stand as at gaze
To let the marvel by. The grey road glooms . . .
Glimmers . . . goes out . . . and there, O, there where it fades,
What grace, what glamour, what wild will,
Transfigure the shadows? Whose,
Heart of my heart, Soul of my soul, but yours?
In Memoriam Nicol Drysdale Stenhouse
© Henry Kendall
SHALL he, on whom the fair lord, Delphicus,
Turned gracious eyes and countenance of shine,
Be left to lie without a wreath from us,
To sleep without a flower upon his shrine?
A Convent Wothout God
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Here a base turnkey novice--master is,
Teaching humility. The matin bell
Calls thee to toil, but little comforteth.
None heed thy prayers or give the kiss of peace.
Nathless, my soul, be valiant. Even in Hell
Wisdom shall preach to thee of life and death.
Richard H. Dana, Sen.
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
O DEEP grave eyes! that long have seemed to gaze
On our low level from far loftier days,
O grand gray head! all aureole seemed to gird,
Drawn from the spirit's pure, immaculate rays!
The Columbiad: Book X
© Joel Barlow
From that mark'd stage of man we now behold,
More rapid strides his coming paths unfold;
His continents are traced, his islands found,
His well-taught sails on all his billows bound,
His varying wants their new discoveries ply,
And seek in earth's whole range their sure supply.