Death poems
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Of The Nature Of Things: Book I - Part 06 - Confutation Of Other Philosophers
© Lucretius
And on such grounds it is that those who held
The stuff of things is fire, and out of fire
To a Friend, on the Death of a Relative.
© Mather Byles
I.
Great GOD, thy Works our Wonder raise,
To thee our swelling Notes belong;
While Skies, and Winds, and Rocks, and Seas,
Around shall echo to our Song.
The Tryst Of The Sachems Daughter
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
In the far green depths of the forest glade,
Where the hunters footsteps but rarely strayed,
Was a darksome dell, possessed, twas said,
By an evil spirit, dark and dread,
Whose weird voice spoke in the whisperings low
Of that haunted wood, and the torrents flow.
That Flesh is Grass is Now as Clear as Day...
© Thomas Hood
That flesh is grass is now as clear as day,
To any but the merest purblind pup,
Death cuts it down, and then, to make her hay,
My Lady B-- comes and rakes it up.
Flowers And Stars
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Beloved! thourt gazing with thoughtful look
On those flowers of brilliant hue,
Mister William
© William Schwenck Gilbert
OH, listen to the tale of MISTER WILLIAM, if you please,
Whom naughty, naughty judges sent away beyond the seas.
He forged a party's will, which caused anxiety and strife,
Resulting in his getting penal servitude for life.
Memorials Of A Tour Of Scotland, 1803 VI. Glen-Almain, Or, The Narrow Glen
© William Wordsworth
IN this still place, remote from men,
Sleeps Ossian, in the NARROW GLEN;
In this still place, where murmurs on
But one meek streamlet, only one:
Sonnet VII: The Face of All the World
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The face of all the world is changed, I think,
Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul
The Young Soldier
© Wilfred Owen
It is not death
Without hereafter
To one in dearth
Of life and its laughter,
When You Get Home, Remember Me
© Henry Clay Work
Gallant and brave! together clinging,
True to the last! with but this plea;
Still in our ears its words are ringing,
"When you get home, remember me!"
The Man Bitten By Fleas
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
A Peevish Fellow laid his Head
On Pillows, stuff'd with Down;
But was no sooner warm in Bed,
With hopes to rest his Crown,
The Homeless Ghost
© George MacDonald
Still flowed the music, flowed the wine.
The youth in silence went;
Through naked streets, in cold moonshine,
His homeward way he bent,
Where, on the city's seaward line,
His lattice seaward leant.
To Them That Mourn
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Lift up your heads: in life, in death,
God knoweth his head was high.
Quit we the coward's broken breath
Who watched a strong man die.
Elegy
© Allen Tate
No more the white refulgent streets.
Never the dry hollows of the mind
Shall he in fine courtesy walk
Again, for death is not unkind.
Autumn Song
© Dante Alighieri
Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the heart feels a languid grief
Laid on it for a covering,
And how sleep seems a goodly thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?
Dream Song 224: Lonely in his great age
© John Berryman
Lonely in his great age, Henry's old friend
leaned on his burning cane while hís old friend
was hymnéd out of living.
The Abbey rang with sound. Pound white as snow
bowed to them with his thoughtsit's hard to know them though
for the old man sang no word.
The Early Purges
© Seamus Justin Heaney
I was six when I first saw kittens drown.
Dan Taggart pitched them, 'the scraggy wee shits',
Into a bucket; a frail metal sound,
Death Of A Naturalist
© Seamus Justin Heaney
All year the flax-dam festered in the heart
Of the townland; green and heavy headed
Flax had rotted there, weighted down by huge sods.
Daily it sweltered in the punishing sun.
