Death poems
/ page 52 of 560 /
On the death of that most excellent lady,
© Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz
(Español)
Mueran contigo, Laura, pues moriste,
los afectos que en vano te desean,
los ojos a quien privas de que vean
hermosa luz que a un tiempo concediste.
The Ballad of the Cars
© Rudyard Kipling
"Now this is the price of a stirrup-cup,"
The kneeling doctor said.
And syne he bade them take him up,
For he saw that the man was dead.
Evensong
© Mathilde Blind
What incommunicable presence clings
To this grey church and willowy twilight stream?
Am I the dupe of some delusive dream?
Or, like faint fluid phosphorent rings
On refluent seas, doth Shakespeare's spirit gleam
Pervasive round these old familiar things?
The Symphony
© Alfred Noyes
Wonder in happy eyes
Fades, fades away:
And the angel-coloured skies
Whisper farewell.
Messages
© Francis Thompson
What shall I your true-love tell,
Earth-forsaking maid?
What shall I your true-love tell,
When life's spectre's laid?
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 9
© Publius Vergilius Maro
WHILE these affairs in distant places passd,
The various Iris Juno sends with haste,
AThe Anniverse. AN ELEGY.
© Henry King
So soon grown old! hast thou been six years dead?
Poor earth, once by my Love inhabited!
And must I live to calculate the time
To which thy blooming youth could never climbe,
For Four Guilds: II. The Bridge-Builders
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
In the world's whitest morning
As hoary with hope,
Yardley Oak
© William Cowper
Survivor sole, and hardly such, of all
That once lived here, thy brethren, at my birth,
Astrophel And Stella-Fifth Song
© Sir Philip Sidney
While favor fed my hope, delight with hope was brought,
Thought waited on delight, and speech did follow thought;
Then drew my tongue and pen records unto thy glory:
I thought all words were lost, that were not spent of thee;
I thought each place was dark but where thy lights would be,
And all ears worse than deaf, that heard not out thy story.
Fragoletta
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
O LOVE! what shall be said of thee?
The son of grief begot by joy?
Being sightless, wilt thou see?
Being sexless, wilt thou be
Maiden or boy?
The Wind Of Winter
© Madison Julius Cawein
The Winter Wind, the wind of death,
Who knocked upon my door,
Now through the keyhole entereth,
Invisible and hoar:
He breathes around his icy breath
And treads the flickering floor.
Its The Sweet Law Of Men
© Paul Eluard
Its the sweet law of men
They make wine from grapes
They make fire from coal
They make men from kisses
The Lucayan's Song
© Amelia Opie
Hail, lonely shore! hail, desert cave!
To you, o'erjoyed, from men I fly,
And here I'll make my early grave….
For what can misery do but die?
Furness Abbey
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
I WISH for the days of the olden time,
When the hours were told by the abbey chime,
When the glorious stars looked down through the midnigh dim,
Like approving saints on the choir's sweet hymn:
I think of the days we are living now,
And I sigh for those of the veil and the vow.
The Siege Of Corinth
© George Gordon Byron
XXVII.
Still the old man stood erect,
And Alp's career a moment check'd.
"Yield thee, Minotti; quarter take,
For thine own, thy daughter's sake."
The English Graves
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The rains of yesterday are flown,
And light is on the farthest hills;
The homeliest rough grass by the stone
To radiance thrills;
