Death poems
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The Bride Of The Greek Isle
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Fear! I'm a Greek, and how should I fear death?
A slave, and wherefore should I dread my freedom?
I will not live degraded ~ Sardanapalus
The Columbiad: Book VII
© Joel Barlow
He spoke; his moving armies veil'd the plain,
His fleets rode bounding on the western main;
O'er lands and seas the loud applauses rung,
And war and union dwelt on every tongue.
The Death of Robin Hood
© Eugene Field
"Give me my bow," said Robin Hood,
"An arrow give to me;
And where 't is shot mark thou that spot,
For there my grave shall be."
Natalias Resurrection: Sonnet XVII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Nor yet in vain. For to him through the rout
Behold, 'mid herald whispers of her name
And laughing eyes and welcome hands held out,
Natalia's self behind her husband came,
Mediation
© Katharine Tynan
If Thou, Lord God, willest to judge
This, Thy very piteous clay
Which to save Christ did not grudge
His last dying, I shall say:
Lord, I interpose Christ's death
'Twixt these children and Thy wrath.
The Lovers Sacrifice
© Victor Marie Hugo
HERNANI. No! I will not rend
From its fair stem the flower as I descend.
Go--I have smelt its perfume. Go--resume
All that this grasp has brushed away of bloom.
Wed the old man,--believe that ne'er we met;
I seek my shade--be happy, and forget!
Hafbur And Signy
© William Morris
It was the Kings son Hafbur
Woke up amid the night,
And gan to tell of a wondrous dream
In swift words nowise light.
Ode to Melancholy
© Mary Darby Robinson
SORC'RESS of the Cave profound!
Hence, with thy pale, and meagre train,
Nor dare my roseate bow'r profane,
Where light-heel'd mirth despotic reigns,
Slightly bound in feath'ry chains,
And scatt'ring blisses round.
Soldier, Maiden, and Flower
© Eugene Field
"Sweetheart, take this," a soldier said,
"And bid me brave good-by;
It may befall we ne'er shall wed,
But love can never die.
Seein' things
© Eugene Field
I ain't afeard uv snakes, or toads, or bugs, or worms, or mice,
An' things 'at girls are skeered uv I think are awful nice!
I'm pretty brave, I guess; an' yet I hate to go to bed,
For, when I'm tucked up warm an' snug an' when my prayers are said,
Mother tells me "Happy dreams!" and takes away the light,
An' leaves me lyin' all alone an' seein' things at night!
Prof. vere de blaw
© Eugene Field
Achievin' sech distinction with his moddel tabble dote
Ez to make his Red Hoss Mountain restauraw a place uv note,
Our old friend Casey innovated somewhat round the place,
In hopes he would ameliorate the sufferin's uv the race;
Picnic-time
© Eugene Field
It's June ag'in, an' in my soul I feel the fillin' joy
That's sure to come this time o' year to every little boy;
For, every June, the Sunday-schools at picnics may be seen,
Where "fields beyont the swellin' floods stand dressed in livin' green";
Pan liveth
© Eugene Field
They told me once that Pan was dead,
And so, in sooth, I thought him;
For vainly where the streamlets led
Through flowery meads I sought him--
The Mother's Prayer
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
A mother kneels by the cradle,
Where her little infant lies,
And You As Well Must Die, Beloved Dust
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
And you as well must die, beloved dust,
And all your beauty stand you in no stead;
Christmas, 1880
© George MacDonald
Great-hearted child, thy very being The Son,
Who know'st the hearts of all us prodigals;-
Marthy's younkit
© Eugene Field
The mountain brook sung lonesomelike, and loitered on its way
Ez if it waited for a child to jine it in its play;
The wild-flowers uv the hillside bent down their heads to hear
The music uv the little feet that had somehow grown so dear;
The Illusion of Love
© Sarojini Naidu
Beloved, you may be as all men say
Only a transient spark
Of flickering flame set in loam of clay
I care not
since you kindle all my dark
With the immortal lustres of the day.
In Earliest Spring
© William Dean Howells
TOSSING his mane of snows in wildest eddies and tangles,
Lion-like March cometh in, hoarse, with tempestuous breath,
Through all the moaning chimneys, and 'thwart all the hollows and
angles
Round the shuddering house, threatening of winter and death.
