Death poems
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When Rising from The Bed of Death
© Joseph Addison
When rising from the bed of death,
Oerwhelmed with guilt and fear,
I see my Maker face to face,
O how shall I appear?
The Freeborn
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
God made the man and bid him multiply,
Replenish the green earth, nor break the die
The Native Land. (From The Spanish Of Francisco De Aldana)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Clear fount of light! my native land on high,
Bright with a glory that shall never fade!
To James Y. Simpson
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Oh teeming heart, that, for this once, in vain
Big with our good, didst undeliver'd die,
Straw
© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
When you are trying to sleep, Solominka,
In your enormous bedroom, and are waiting,
Sleepless, for the high and weighty ceiling to come down
With quiet, heavy sorrow on your keen eyelids,
De Te
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
A burning glass of burnished brass,
The calm sea caught the noontide rays,
The Lord of the Isles: Canto II.
© Sir Walter Scott
I.
Fill the bright goblet, spread the festive board!
Sermon In A Churchyard
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
Let pious Damon take his seat,
With mincing step and languid smile,
A Ballad Of Past Meridian
© George Meredith
Last night returning from my twilight walk
I met the grey mist Death, whose eyeless brow
Was bent on me, and from his hand of chalk
He reached me flowers as from a withered bough:
O Death, what bitter nosegays givest thou!
By Faith With Thanksgiving
© Edith Nesbit
LOVE is no bird that nests and flies,
No rose that buds and blooms and dies,
Life Of The Blessed
© William Cullen Bryant
Region of life and light!
Land of the good whose earthly toils are o'er!
Nor frost nor heat may blight
Thy vernal beauty, fertile shore,
Yielding thy blessed fruits for evermore!
To Show What a Man Can Do
© Henry Lawson
THERE has been many a grander deed since man had life to give,
And thousands have gone to certain death, eyes open, that men might live;
And many have gone for their countrys sake, when their numbers were all too few,
And bravely died that their mates may dieto show what a man can do.
An Armour of proofe, brought from The Tower of Dauid, to fight agaynst Spannyardes
© Roger Cotton
When God of hosts in eighty eight had brought,
an host of men, our Countrey to annoy:
in that distresse the Lord by vs was sought,
whereby our woes were turned then to ioy.
But yet full true to vs may this be sayde,
in your distresse, you onely seeke my ayde.
When Thou Hast Spent The Lingering Day
© George Gascoigne
WHEN thou hast spent the lingering day in pleasure and delght,
Or after toil and weary way, dost seek to rest at night,
Abu Midjan
© George MacDonald
"If I sit in the dust
For lauding good wine,
Ha, ha! it is just:
So sits the vine!"
If I Were A Monk, And If Thou Wert A Nun
© George MacDonald
If I were a monk, and thou wert a nun,
Pacing it wearily, wearily,
Twixt chapel and cell till day were done-
Wearily, wearily-
How would it fare with these hearts of ours
That need the sunshine, and smiles, and flowers?
We Are Seven
© William Wordsworth
-A simple child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?
