Death poems
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Sonnet XLIV: Cloud and Wind
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Love, should I fear death most for you or me?
Yet if you die, can I not follow you,
No News From The War
© Augusta Davies Webster
"IS she sitting in the meadow
Where the brook leaps to the mill,
Leaning low against the poplar,
Dreamily and still?
The Sprig of Lime
© Robert Nichols
She knelt and kneeling drank the scent of limes,
Blown round the slow blind by a vesperal gust,
Till the room swam. So the lime-incense blew
Into her life as once it had in his,
Though how and when and with what ageless charge
Of sorrow and deep joy how could she know?
Vulcan's Song: In Making Of The Arrows
© John Lyly
MY shag-hair Cyclops, come, let's ply
Our Lemnian hammers lustily.
By my wife's sparrows,
I swear these arrows
Shall singing fly
Through many a wanton's eye.
This World
© George MacDonald
Thy world is made to fit thine own,
A nursery for thy children small,
The playground-footstool of thy throne,
Thy solemn school-room, Father of all!
When day is done, in twilight's gloom,
We pass into thy presence-room.
The Non-Combatant
© Sir Henry Newbolt
Among a race high-handed, strong of heart,
Sea-rovers, conquerors, builders in the waste,
The Lady Of La Garaye - Part III
© Caroline Norton
And either tries to hide the thoughts that wring
Their secret hearts; and both essay to bring
Some happy topic, some yet lingering dream,
Which they with cheerful words shall make their theme;
But fail,--and in their wistful eyes confess
All their words never own of hopelessness.
A Modest Request
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
SCENE,--a back parlor in a certain square,
Or court, or lane,--in short, no matter where;
Time,--early morning, dear to simple souls
Who love its sunshine and its fresh-baked rolls;
Persons,--take pity on this telltale blush,
That, like the AEthiop, whispers, "Hush, oh hush!"
The Spirit Of The Ideal
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Sweet sister spirits, ye whose starlight tresses
Stream on the night-winds as ye float along,
Missioned with hope to man-and with caresses
A Descriptive Ode
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Supposed to have been written under the Ruins of
Rufus's Castle, among the remains of the ancient
Church on the Isle of Portland.
CHAOTIC pile of barren stone,
The Elected Knight. From The Danish.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sir Oluf he rideth over the plain,
Full seven miles broad and seven miles wide,
But never, ah never, can meet with the man,
A tilt with him dare ride.
To A Brown Boy
© Countee Cullen
That brown girl's swagger gives a twitch
To beauty like a Queen,
Lad, never damn your body's itch
When loveliness is seen.
To M.I.P.
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
YOUR gracious words steal o'er like the breeze
That blows from far-off southland isles benign,--
All steeped in perfume, sweet as fairy wine,
Yet touched with salt keen breathings of the seas!
The Farewell
© Konstantin Nikolaevich Batiushkov
BENT o'er his sabre, torrents starting
From his dim eyes, the bold hussar
Thus greets his cherish'd maid, while parting
For distant fields of war:
Tamerton Church-Tower, Or, First Love
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
III.
You paint a leaflet, here and there;
And not the blossom: tell
What mysteries of good and fair
These blazon'd letters spell.
But For The Tears
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
"The World were a place to play in," said the children,
"The playground of the present; all that is have we,
A Fragment, Supposed To Be Written Near The Temple, On The Night Before The Murder Of Louis The Sixt
© Mary Darby Robinson
Now Midnight spreads her sable vest
With starry rays light tissued o'er;
Now from the Desart's thistled breast
The chilling dews begin to soar;
The owl shrieks from the tott'ring tow'r,
Dread watch bird of the witching hour!
Death
© Madison Julius Cawein
THROUGH some strange sense of sight or touch
I find what all have found before,
The presence I have feared so much,
The unknowns immaterial door.
On The Death Of Pushkin
© Mikhail Lermontov
"Hence is he, hence! His song out-rung,
The Singer even as the song he sung;
Who of a hot, heroic mood,
In death disgraceful shed his blood!"
