Death poems
/ page 95 of 560 /
Elegy On An Australian Schoolboy
© Zora Bernice May Cross
I would not curse your England, wise as slow,
Just as unjust in deed.
The Resurrection
© Giacomo Leopardi
I thought I had forever lost,
Alas, though still so young,
The tender joys and sorrows all,
That unto youth belong;
Thy Beauty Fades
© Jones Very
Thy beauty fades and with it too my love,
For 'twas the self-same stalk that bore its flower;
The Wounded
© John Le Gay Brereton
Stupidity and Selfishness and Fear,
Who hold enslaved the intellect of Man,
Have found their victims here.
Conductor Bradley
© John Greenleaf Whittier
CONDUCTOR BRADLEY, (always may his name
Be said with reverence!) as the swift doom came,
Smitten to death, a crushed and mangled frame,
Gunnar's Howe Above The House At Lithend
© William Morris
Ye who have come oer the sea
to behold this grey minster of lands,
English Eclogues II - The Grandmother's Tale
© Robert Southey
JANE.
Harry! I'm tired of playing. We'll draw round
The fire, and Grandmamma perhaps will tell us
One of her stories.
The Prophecy Of Famine
© Charles Churchill
Still have I known thee for a silly swain;
Of things past help, what boots it to complain?
Nothing but mirth can conquer fortune's spite;
No sky is heavy, if the heart be light:
Patience is sorrow's salve: what can't be cured,
So Donald right areads, must be endured.
The U-Boat Crew
© Katharine Lee Bates
ALAS, alas for those blond boys who stalk
Their prey in ambush of the shuddering seas,
The Old Play
© Kenneth Slessor
I
IN an old play-house, in an old play,
In an old piece that has been done to death,
We dance, kind ladies, noble friends.
The Philosopher
© Emily Jane Brontë
Enough of thought, philosopher!
Too long hast thou been dreaming
Unlightened, in this chamber drear,
While summer's sun is beaming!
Space-sweeping soul, what sad refrain
Concludes thy musings once again?
Faith
© Ada Cambridge
Let go the myths and creeds of groping men.
This clay knows naught - the Potter understands.
I own that Power divine beyond my ken,
And still can leave me in His shaping hands.
But, O my God, that madest me to feel,
Forgive the anguish of the turning wheel!
The Lady of the Lake: Canto III. - The Gathering
© Sir Walter Scott
I.
Time rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore,
Who danced our infancy upon their knee,
And told our marvelling boyhood legends store
The Offside Leader
© William Henry Ogilvie
This is the wish, as he told it to me,
Of Driver Macpherson of Battery B.
Sweetheart, Goodbye
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
SWEETHEART, good-bye! Our varied day
Is closing into twilight gray,
And up from bare, bleak wastes of sea
The north-wind rises mournfully;
Elegiac Feelings American
© Gregory Corso
Aye, what happened to you, dear friend, compassionate friend,
is what is happening to everyone and thing of
planet the clamorous sadly desperate planet now
one voice less. . . expendable as the wind. . . gone,
and who'll now blow away the awful miasma of
sick, sick and dying earthflesh-soul America
The Lady Of La Garaye - Part I
© Caroline Norton
So, till the day when over Dinan's walls
The Autumn sunshine of my story falls;
And the guests bidden, gather for the chase,
And the smile brightens on the lovely face
That greets them in succession as they come
Into that high and hospitable home.
The Spaniards' Graves
© Celia Thaxter
O sailors, did sweet eyes look after you
The day you sailed away from sunny Spain?
Bright eyes that followed fading ship and crew,
Melting in tender rain?
In The Habour: Victor And Vanquished
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
As one who long hath fled with panting breath
Before his foe, bleeding and near to fall,
