Death And Dying Poems

Found 12 poems in the topic of Death And Dying.
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THE REMORSE OF THE DEAD by Charles Baudelaire
O SHADOWY Beauty mine, when thou shalt sleep
In the deep heart of a black marble tomb;
When thou for mansion and for bower shalt keep
Only one rainy cave of hollow gloom;

And when the stone upon thy trembling breast,
And on thy straight sweet body's supp… [ Read More ]

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Emily Dickinson
When I was small, a Woman died -- by Emily Dickinson
When I was small, a Woman died --
Today -- her Only Boy
Went up from the Potomac --
His face all Victory

To look at her -- How slowly
The Seasons must have turned
Till Bullets clipt an Angle
And He passed quickly round --

If pride shall be … [ Read More ]

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She is Far From the Land by Thomas Moore
She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps,
And lovers are round her, sighing;
But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps,
For her heart in his grave is lying.

She sings the wild song of her dear native plains,
Every note which he loved awak… [ Read More ]

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The Young that Died in Beauty by Ingeborg Bachmann
If souls should only sheen so bright
In heaven as in e'thly light,
An' nothen better wer the cease,
How comely still, in sheape an' feace,
Would many reach thik happy pleace, -
The hopevul souls that in their prime
Ha' seem'd a-took avore their time, -
The … [ Read More ]

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A Gift by Amy Lowell
See! I give myself to you, Beloved!
My words are little jars
For you to take and put upon a shelf.
Their shapes are quaint and beautiful,
And they have many pleasant colours and lustres
To recommend them.
Also the scent from them fills the room
With sweetn… [ Read More ]

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TO ANTHEA by Robert Herrick
Anthea, I am going hence
With some small stock of innocence;
But yet those blessed gates I see
Withstanding entrance unto me;
To pray for me do thou begin;--
The porter then will let me in. [ Read More ]

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Kaspar Is Dead by Jean Arp
alas our good kaspar is dead.
who will bury a burning flag in the wings of the clouds who will pull
black wool over our eyes day by day.
who will turn the coffee mills in the primal barrel.
who will lure the idyllic roe from his petrified paperbag.
who will sneeze oc… [ Read More ]

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She is Far from the Land by Thomas Moore
She is far from the land, where her young hero sleeps,
And lovers are round her, sighing;
But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps,
For her heart in his grave is lying!

She sings the wild song of her dear native plains,
Every note which he lov'd awa… [ Read More ]

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Robert Frost
The Death of the Hired Man by Robert Frost
Mary sat musing on the lamp-flame at the table
Waiting for Warren. When she heard his step,
She ran on tip-toe down the darkened passage
To meet him in the doorway with the news
And put him on his guard. 'Silas is back.'
She pushed him outward with her through the do… [ Read More ]

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I Want To Die In My Own Bed by Yehuda Amichai
All night the army came up from Gilgal
To get to the killing field, and that's all.
In the ground, warf and woof, lay the dead.
I want to die in My own bed.
Like slits in a tank, their eyes were uncanny,
I'm always the few and they are the many.
I must answer. T… [ Read More ]

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Alexander Pope
The Dying Christian to His Soul by Alexander Pope
Vital spark of heav'nly flame!
Quit, O quit this mortal frame:
Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying,
O the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life.

Hark! they whisper; angels say,
Sister Spirit, co… [ Read More ]

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I Don't Know If You're Alive Or Dead by Anna Akhmatova
I don't know if you're alive or dead.
Can you on earth be sought,
Or only when the sunsets fade
Be mourned serenely in my thought?

All is for you: the daily prayer,
The sleepless heat at night,
And of my verses, the white
Flock, and of my eyes, the bl… [ Read More ]

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Birth: 1945-02-06 Death: 1981-05-11

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