“Should catch the note, as it doth float up from the damnéd Earth. “Let no bell toll! - lest her sweet soul, amid its hallowed mirth, “But waft the angel on her flight with a Pæan of old days! The life still there, upon her hair - the death upon her eyes. The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes . Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride -įor her, the fair and debonair, that now so lowly lies, The sweet Lenore hath “gone before,” with Hope, that flew beside Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel so wrong! Peccavimus but rave not thus! and let a Sabbath song “That did to death the innocent that died, and died so young?” “By you - by yours, the evil eye, - by yours, the slanderous tongue “How shall the ritual, then, be read? - the requiem how be sung “And when she fell in feeble health, ye blessed her - that she died! “Wretches! ye loved her for her wealth and hated her for her pride, See! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love, Lenore!Ĭome! let the burial rite be read - the funeral song be sung! -Īn anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young -Ī dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young. Let the bell toll! - a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river Īnd, Guy De Vere, hast thou no tear? - weep now or never more! When that which drew from out the boundless deepįor tho’ from out our bourne of Time and PlaceĪh broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever! When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose. I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters. Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life, Heads of the characters hammer through daisies īreak in the sun till the sun breaks down,įrom my mother’s sleep I fell into the State,Īnd I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze. Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone, With the man in the wind and the west moon The years to come seemed waste of breath, Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sightīlind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,Īnd you, my father, there on the sad height,Ĭurse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,Īnd learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Though wise men at their end know dark is right,īecause their words had forked no lightning they Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Old age should burn and rave at close of day We passed the School, where Children strove Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,Īnd dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,Īnd poppy or charms can make us sleep as wellĪnd better than thy stroke why swell’st thou then?Īnd death shall be no more Death, thou shalt die. Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery. Much pleasure then from thee much more must flow,Īnd soonest our best men with thee do go, Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so įor those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrowĭie not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.įrom rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, Death Be Not Proudĭeath, be not proud, though some have called thee They also share their insights into how we should remember our loved ones after they are gone. These famous poems about death reflect the poet’s unique thoughts and feelings about what happens to us after we die. You may be familiar with some of these iconic death poem written by the greatest poets of all time. We hope that you find our ultimate collection of death poetry helpful. For ease of reference, we have organized this collection by themes: Whatever your need, we have assembled 100+ poems about death to make your search easier. Or perhaps you’re searching for death poems as inspiration for writing an epitaph, a sympathy card, or a eulogy? Looking for poems about death to read at a funeral, memorial service, or a celebration of life ceremony?
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