Death poems
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The Great Titanic
© Anonymous
It was on one Monday morning just about one o'clock
When that great Titanic began to reel and rock;
People began to scream and cry,
Saying, "Lord, am I going to die?"
The Beau to the Virtuosos
© William Shenstone
Hail curious wights, to whom so fair
The form of mortal flies is!
Who deem those grubs beyond compare,
Which common sense despises.
My Lady The Tyranness
© Francis Thompson
Me since your fair ambition bows
Feodary to those gracious brows,
The Clock of The Universe
© George MacDonald
A clock aeonian, steady and tall,
With its back to creation's flaming wall,
The Mystic Trumpeter
© Walt Whitman
I hear thee, trumpeter-listening, alert, I catch thy notes,
Now pouring, whirling like a tempest round me,
Now low, subdued-now in the distance lost.
The Ways Of Death Are Soothing And Serene
© William Ernest Henley
The ways of Death are soothing and serene,
And all the words of Death are grave and sweet.
From camp and church, the fireside and the street,
She beckons forth and strife and song have been.
Ode To Happiness
© James Russell Lowell
Spirit, that rarely comest now
And only to contrast my gloom,
The Ballad of 'Bolivar'
© Rudyard Kipling
Seven men from all the world back to Docks again,
Rolling down the Ratcliffe Road drunk and raising Cain:
Give the girls another drink 'fore we sign away -
We that took the BOLIVAR out across the Bay!
The First Part: Sonnet 9 - Sleep, Silence' child, sweet father of soft rest,
© William Henry Drummond
Sleep, Silence' child, sweet father of soft rest,
Prince, whose approach peace to all mortals brings,
Christmas Creek
© Henry Kendall
Phantom streams were in the distance - mocking lights of lake and pool -
Ghosts of trees of soft green lustre - groves of shadows deep and cool!
The German Legion
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
In the cot beside the water,
In the white cot by the water,
The white cot by the white water,
There they laid the German maid.
On The Persecution Of The Jews In Russia
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHAT murmurs are these that so wofully rise
Into heart-storms of agony borne from afar?
A tempest of passion, a tumult of sighs?
There is dread on the earth, and stern grief in the skies,
While the nations, appalled, watch the realm of the Czar!
Stanzas on the Taking of Quebec and the Death of General Wolfe
© Oliver Goldsmith
AMIDST the clamour of exulting joys,
Which triumph forces from the patriot heart,
Grief dares to mingle her soul-piercing voice,
And quells the raptures which from pleasures start.
Johnson, alias Crow
© Henry Lawson
Where the seasons are divided and the bush begins to change,
and the links are rather broken in the Great Dividing Range;
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part I: To Manon: XIV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
HE HAS FALLEN FROM THE HEIGHT OF HIS LOVE
Love, how ignobly hast thou met thy doom!
Ill--seasoned scaffolding by which, full--fraught
With passionate youth and mighty hopes, we clomb
