Death poems

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The Lay of the Last Minstrel: Canto II.

© Sir Walter Scott

I.

If thou would'st view fair Melrose aright,

For Where Your Treasure Is, There Will Your Heart Be Also

© George MacDonald

The miser lay on his lonely bed;
Life's candle was burning dim.
His heart in an iron chest was hid
Under heaps of gold and an iron lid;
And whether it were alive or dead
It never troubled him.

Whitsunday

© Alessandro Manzoni

Mother of the sons of God,

Image of the house supernal,

By the Statue of King Charles at Charing Cross

© Lionel Pigot Johnson

Sombre and rich, the skies;
Great glooms, and starry plains.
Gently the night wind sighs;
Else a vast silence reigns.

Balaam's Wish

© John Newton

How blest the righteous are
When they resign their breath!
No wonder Balaam wished to share
In such a happy death.

Eclogue 2: Alexis

© Publius Vergilius Maro

The shepherd Corydon with love was fired

For fair Alexis, his own master's joy:

The High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire

© Jean Ingelow

(1571.)

The old mayor climbed the belfry tower,

They were as fair and bright a band as ever filled with pride
Parental hearts whose task it was children beloved to guide;
And every care that love upon its idols bright may shower
Was lavished with impartial hand upon each fair young flower.

Abstrosophy

© Gelett Burgess

If echoes from the fitful past
Could rise to mental view,
Would all their fancied radiance last
Or would some odors from the blast,
Untouched by Time, accrue?

Isaura

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Dost thou not tire, Isaura, of this play?
"What play?" Why, this old play of winning hearts!
Nay, now, lift not thine eyes in that feigned way:
'Tis all in vainI know thee and thine arts.

Sheep-Killer

© Ernest G Moll

But since a farmer needs must have his sleep,
That night I put a bullet in his head,
Gave the world back to God, and went to bed.

Hymn XXII: Behold the Saviour of Mankind

© Charles Wesley

Behold the Saviour of mankind
Nailed to the shameful tree!
How vast the love that him inclined
To bleed and die for thee!

Tale XXI

© George Crabbe

rise;
Not there the wise alone their entrance find,
Imparting useful light to mortals blind;
But, blind themselves, these erring guides hold out
Alluring lights to lead us far about;
Screen'd by such means, here Scandal whets her

Psalm CXXXVIII "By the rivers of Babylon."

WE sat us down and wept,
Where Babel's waters slept,
And we thought of home and Zion as a long-gone, happy dream;
We hung our harps in air
On the willow boughs, which there,
Gloomy as round a sepulchre, were drooping o'er the stream.

The Zucca

VII.
The Heavens had wept upon it, but the Earth
Had crushed it on her maternal breast

Childhood

Ah me! conceiv'd in sin, and born in sorrow,

A nothing, here to day, but gone to morrow,

Before Death (Mrityu-r Agey)

We who have walked deserted stubble fields on a December evening,
Who have seen over the field's edge a soft river woman scattering
Her fog flowers-they all are like some village girls of old-
We who have seen in darkness the akanda tree, the dhundul plant
Filled with fireflies, the moon standing quietly at the head of
An already harvested field-she has no yearning for that harvest;