Death poems

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On our Thirty-ninth Wedding-day, 6th of May, 1810

© Odell Jonathan

Twice nineteen years, dear Nancy, on this dayComplete their circle, since the smiling MayBeheld us at the altar kneel and joinIn holy rites and vows, which made thee mine

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Ode

© O'Shaughnessy Arthur

We are the music makers, And we are the dreamers of dreams,Wandering by lone sea-breakers, And sitting by desolate streams; --World-losers and world-forsakers, On whom the pale moon gleams:Yet we are the movers and shakers Of the world for ever, it seems

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Living

© O'Reilly John Boyle

To toil all day and lie worn-out at night;To rise for all the years to slave and sleep,And breed new broods to do no other thingIn toiling, bearing, breeding -- life is thisTo myriad men, too base for man or brute

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A Song of Workers

© Robert Norwood

Hail to the hodmen,The builders of houses!Hail to the navviesLaying pipes for pure water!Hail to the minersPrisoned in pits,Cleaving the coal,Dauntless of death from the gases!

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Darwin

© Robert Norwood

Eternal night and solitude of space;Breath as of vapour crimsoning to flame;Far constellations moving in the sameInvariable order and the paceThat times the sun, or earth's elliptic raceAmong the planets: Life--dumb, blind and lame--Creeping from form to form, until her shameBlends with the beauty of a human face!

Death can not claim what Life so hardly wonOut of her ancient warfare with the Void--O Man! whose day is only now begun,Go forth with her and do what she hath done;Till thy last enemy--Death--be destroyed,And earth outshine the splendour of the sun

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"A Little Place Apart"

© Nicholls Marjory

A little garden have I made me here, Of tender, fragrant plants--none bright or gay--And hither shall I come in twilight-time To dream awhile of the dear yesterday.

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Vitai Lampada

© Newbolt Henry John

There's a breathless hush in the Close to-night-- Ten to make and the match to win--A bumping pitch and a blinding light, An hour to play and the last man in

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Drake's Drum

© Newbolt Henry John

Drake he's in his hammock an' a thousand mile away, (Capten, art tha sleepin' there below?),Slung atween the round shot in Nombre Dios Bay, An' dreamin' arl the time o' Plymouth Hoe

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April on a Waggon Hill

© Newbolt Henry John

Lad, and can you rest now, There beneath your hill?Your hands are on your breast now, But is your heart so still?'Twas the right death to die, lad, A gift without regret,But unless truth's a lie, lad, You dream of Devon yet

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The Doctor Readies The Breathing Tube

© Neilson Shane

Centimetred grace: coiled like a whip,entering a place where one can sing,or choke a note. Jiggly jangly, the tripdown the throat a long tunnel, no light

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All Pain Can Be Controlled

© Neilson Shane

In the hack-the-limb-off,pull out the tooth by tying it to a doorjamb,give the child something to cry about,cold showers are best, or just ice it, or suck it up, suck all of it up,punch your dad in the belly as he tightens his muscles,ten on a scale of one to ten just means a better amount of control,your lover looking at you and saying, Are you feeling this yet?,the torturer grinning and saying, Have no fear,filling the airbag with nails,stone in the bottom of the shoe for the faithless,dreams of the euthanasia machine are best interrupted halfway through,the logical end is death,kind of way

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The Story of Sigurd the Volsung

© William Morris

But therewith the sun rose upward and lightened all the earth,And the light flashed up to the heavens from the rims of the glorious girth;But they twain arose together, and with both her palms outspread,And bathed in the light returning, she cried aloud and said:"All hail, O Day and thy Sons, and thy kin of the coloured things!Hail, following Night, and thy Daughter that leadeth thy wavering wings!Look down With unangry eyes on us today alive,And give us the hearts victorious, and the gain for which we strive!All hail, ye Lords of God-home, and ye Queens of the House of Gold!Hail, thou dear Earth that bearest, and thou Wealth of field and fold!Give us, your noble children, the glory of wisdom and speech,And the hearts and the hands of healing, and the mouths and hands that teach!"

Then they turned and were knit together; and oft and o'er againThey craved, and kissed rejoicing, and their hearts were full and fain

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On the Preserved Body of an Inca Child Frozen to Death as a Sacrifice to the Sun

© Moritz Albert Frank

The priests collected your teeth,all your cut hairs from the ground,the parings of your nails,so that, dead, in another worldyou do not have to go searching farfor the parts of your body

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Home Again Home Again

© Moritz Albert Frank

Your parents had reached a long slow time,as animals do, the great center of their lives,when they gleam in their fells as though eternally,unchanging

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Conversation with a Widow

© Moritz Albert Frank

Uncle Johnny died after rigid yearsof cutting hair in his shop downtown

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Frank Dutton

© Julia A Moore

AIR -- "Dublin Boy"

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Midnight Lamentation

© Harold Monro

When you and I go downBreathless and cold,Our faces both worn backTo earthly mould,How lonely we shall be!What shall we do,You without me,I without you?

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The Earth for Sale

© Harold Monro

How perilous life will become on earthWhen the great breed of man has covered all

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Aspidistra Street

© Harold Monro

Go along that road, and look at sorrow