Death poems
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Alice And Una. A Tale Of Ceim-An-Eich
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
With a sigh for what is fading, but, O Earth! with no upbraiding,
For we feel that time is braiding newer, fresher flowers for thee,
We will speak, despite our grieving, words of loving and believing,
Tales we vowed when we were leaving awful Ceim-an-eich,
Where the sever'd rocks resemble fragments of a frozen sea,
And the wild deer flee!
Beautiful River
© Robert Wadsworth Lowry
Shall we gather at the river
Where bright angel feet have trod;
With its crystal tide forever
Flowing by the throne of God?
Euthanasia
© George Gordon Byron
When Time, or soon or late, shall bring
The dreamless sleep that lulls the dead,
Oblivion! may thy languid wing
Wave gently o'er my dying bed!
Of The Dawn Of Freedom
© James Russell Lowell
Careless seems the great Avenger;
Historys lessons but recorded
The Avenging Spirit
© Arthur Symons
So you have drugged me with this poisoned wine
Because I never loved you; trees writhe grim
The Lotus-Flower
© Roderic Quinn
All the heights of the high shores gleam
Red and gold at the sunset hour:
There comes the spell of a magic dream,
And the Harbour seems a lotus-flower;
Rome
© Arthur Symons
A high and naked square, a lonely palm;
Columns thrown down, a high and lonely tower;
Biography
© John Masefield
Yet when I am dust my penman may not know
Those water-trampling ships which made me glow,
But think my wonder mad and fail to find,
Their glory, even dimly, from my mind,
And yet they made me:
Lebid
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Gone are they the lost camps, light flittings, long sojournings
in Miná, in Gháula, Rijám left how desolate.
Lost are they. Rayyán lies lorn with its white torrent beds,
scored in lines like writings left by the flood--water.
On King William's Happy Deliverance from the Intended Assassination
© Charles Sackville
The youth whose fortune the vast globe obey'd,
Finding his royal enemy betray'd
Song Of The Trees
© Mary Colborne-Veel
We are the Trees.
On us the dying rest
Their strange, sad eyes, in farewell messages.
And we, his comrades still, since earth began,
Wave mournful boughs above the grave of man,
And coffin his cold breast.
Out Of Pompeii
© William Wilfred Campbell
She lay, face downward, on her beaded arm,
In this her new, sweet dream of human bliss,
Her heart within her fearful, fluttering, warm,
Her lips yet pained with love's first timorous kiss.
O, Were I Loved As I Desire To Be!
© Alfred Tennyson
O, were I loved as I desire to be!
What is there in the great sphere of the earth,
With Scindia To Delhi
© Rudyard Kipling
More than a hundred years ago, in a great battle fought near Delhi,
an Indian Prince rode fifty miles after the day was lost
with a beggar-girl, who had loved him and followed him in all his camps,
on his saddle-bow. He lost the girl when almost within sight of safety.
A Maratta trooper tells the story: -
Upon The Image Of Death
© Robert Southwell
Before my face the picture hangs
That daily should put me in mind
Of those cold names and bitter pangs
That shortly I am like to find;
But yet, alas, full little I
Do think hereon that I must die.
A Parting
© Edith Nesbit
So good-bye!
This is where we end it, you and I.
Life's to live, you know, and death's to die;
So good-bye!
Paradise Lost : Book IX.
© John Milton
No more of talk where God or Angel guest
With Man, as with his friend, familiar us'd,
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: LII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE SAME CONTINUED
Lame, impotent conclusion to youth's dreams
Vast as all heaven! See, what glory lies
Entangled here in these base stratagems,
Within and Without: Part II: A Dramatic Poem
© George MacDonald
Julian.
Hm! ah! I see.
What kind of man is this Nembroni, nurse?
