The Death King

Related poetry:

1. First Death In Nova Scotia In the cold, cold parlor My mother laid out Arthur Beneath the chromographs: Edward, Prince of Wales, With Princess Alexandra, And King George with Queen Mary. Below them on the table Stood a stuffed loon Shot and stuffed by Uncle Arthur, Arthur’s father. Since Uncle Arthur fired A bullet into him, He hadn’t said a […]...
2. The Ballad of the King's Mercy Abdhur Rahman, the Durani Chief, of him is the story told. His mercy fills the Khyber hills his grace is manifold; He has taken toll of the North and the South his glory reacheth far, And they tell the tale of his charity from Balkh to Kandahar. Before the old Peshawur Gate, where Kurd and […]...
3. As At Thy Portals Also Death AS at thy portals also death, Entering thy sovereign, dim, illimitable grounds, To memories of my mother, to the divine blending, maternity, To her, buried and gone, yet buried not, gone not from me, (I see again the calm benignant face fresh and beautiful still, I sit by the form in the coffin, I kiss […]...
4. The House Of Dust: Part 04: 02: Death: And A Derisive Chorus The door is shut. She leaves the curtained office, And down the grey-walled stairs comes trembling slowly Towards the dazzling street. Her withered hand clings tightly to the railing. The long stairs rise and fall beneath her feet. Here in the brilliant sun we jostle, waiting To tear her secret out. . . We laugh, […]...
5. Don't fear death Don’t fear death in earthly travels. Don’t fear enemies or friends. Just listen to the words of prayers, To pass the facets of the dreads. Your death will come to you, and never You shall be, else, a slave of life, Just waiting for a dawn’s favor, From nights of poverty and strife. She’ll build […]...
6. I have a King, who does not speak I have a King, who does not speak So wondering thro’ the hours meek I trudge the day away Half glad when it is night, and sleep, If, haply, thro’ a dream, to peep In parlors, shut by day. And if I do when morning comes It is as if a hundred drums Did round […]...
7. Lover's Gifts XIII: Last Night in the Garden Last night in the garden I offered you my youth’s foaming wine. You Lifted the cup to your lips, you shut your eyes and smiled while I raised your veil, unbound your tresses, drawing down upon my Breast your face sweet with its silence, last night when the moon’s Dream overflowed the world of slumber. […]...
8. The Death of the Rev. Dr. Wilson ‘Twas in the year of 1888 and on the 17th of January That the late Rev. Dr. Wilson’s soul fled away; The generous-hearted Dr. had been ailing for some time, But death, with his dart, did pierce the heart of the learned divine. He was a man of open countenance and of great ability, And […]...
9. Contraband The tree of knowledge was the tree of reason. That’s why the taste of it Drove us from Eden. That fruit Was meant to be dried and milled to a fine powder For use a pinch at a time, a condiment. God had probably planned to tell us later About this new pleasure. We stuffed […]...
10. The Death Baby 1. DREAMS I was an ice baby. I turned to sky blue. My tears became two glass beads. My mouth stiffened into a dumb howl. They say it was a dream But I remember that hardening. My sister at six Dreamt nightly of my death: “The baby turned to ice. Someone put her in the […]...
11. On Death TEll me thou safest End of all our Woe, Why wreched Mortals do avoid thee so: Thou gentle drier o’th’ afflicteds Tears, Thou noble ender of the Cowards Fears; Thou sweet Repose to Lovers sad dispaire, Thou Calm t’Ambitions rough Tempestuous Care. If in regard of Bliss thou wert a Curse, And then the Joys […]...
12. Gwin King of Norway Come, kings, and listen to my song: When Gwin, the son of Nore, Over the nations of the North His cruel sceptre bore; The nobles of the land did feed Upon the hungry poor; They tear the poor man’s lamb, and drive The needy from their door. ‘The land is desolate; our wives And children […]...
13. The Death of the Old Mendicant There was a rich old gentleman Lived on a lonely moor in Switzerland, And he was very hard to the wandering poor, ‘Tis said he never lodged nor served them at his door. ‘Twas on a stormy night, and Boreas blew a bitter blast, And the snowflakes they fell thick and fast, When a poor […]...
14. A Death Song What cometh here from west to east awending? And who are these, the marchers stern and slow? We bear the message that the rich are sending Aback to those who bade them wake and know. Not one, not one, nor thousands must they slay, But one and all if they would dusk the day. We […]...
15. On The Death of a Father I was schooled well before he died, able at least To feel what others felt when their fathers Were deceased. Able but not willing And not without despair to glimpse the man Who’d hide the truth of just how much he cared. My argent truth was fulsome gloom, Moribund and drear, my face a patent […]...
16. My Coffin Deeming that I was due to die I framed myself a coffin; So full of graveyard zeal was I, I set the folks a-laughing. I made it snugly to my fit, My joinering was honest; And sometimes in it I would sit, And fancy I was non est. I stored it on my cabin shelf […]...
17. Death of the Bird For every bird there is this last migration; Once more the cooling year kindles her heart; With a warm passage to the summer station Love pricks the course in lights across the chart. Year after year a speck on the map, divided By a whole hemisphere, summons her to come; Season after season, sure and […]...
18. Leaving White King City White King City I left at dawn In the morning-glow of the clouds; The thousand miles to Chiang-ling We sailed in a single day. On either shore the gibbons’ chatter Sounded without pause While my light boat skimmed past Ten thousand sombre crags....
19. Vision Of The Archangels, The Slowly up silent peaks, the white edge of the world, Trod four archangels, clear against the unheeding sky, Bearing, with quiet even steps, and great wings furled, A little dingy coffin; where a child must lie, It was so tiny. (Yet, you had fancied, God could never Have bidden a child turn from the spring […]...
20. Written Before Re-Reading King Lear O golden-tongued Romance with serene lute! Fair plumed Syren! Queen of far away! Leave melodizing on this wintry day, Shut up thine olden pages, and be mute. Adieu! for once again the fierce dispute Betwixt damnation and impassioned clay Must I burn through; once more humbly assay The bitter-sweet of this Shakespearian fruit. Chief Poet! […]...
21. On Sitting Down To Read King Lear Once Again O golden-tongued Romance with serene lute! Fair plumed Syren! Queen of far away! Leave melodizing on this wintry day, Shut up thine olden pages, and be mute: Adieu! for once again the fierce dispute, Betwixt damnation and impassion’d clay Must I burn through; once more humbly assay The bitter-sweet of this Shakespearian fruit. Chief Poet! […]...
22. Enemy of Death (For Rossana Sironi) You should not have Ripped out your image Taken from us, from the world, A portion of beauty. What can we do We enemies of death, Bent to your feet of rose, Your breast of violet? Not a word, not a scrap Of your last day, a No To earth’s things, a […]...
23. Gacela of the Dark Death I want to sleep the dream of the apples, To withdraw from the tumult of cemetries. I want to sleep the dream of that child Who wanted to cut his heart on the high seas. I don’t want to hear again that the dead do not lose their blood, That the putrid mouth goes on […]...
24. 19. A Prayer in the Prospect of Death O THOU unknown, Almighty Cause Of all my hope and fear! In whose dread presence, ere an hour, Perhaps I must appear! If I have wander’d in those paths Of life I ought to shun, As something, loudly, in my breast, Remonstrates I have done; Thou know’st that Thou hast formed me With passions wild […]...
25. The Death of Prince Leopold Alas! noble Prince Leopold, he is dead! Who often has his lustre shed: Especially by singing for the benefit of Esher School, Which proves he was a wise prince. and no conceited fool. Methinks I see him on the platform singing the Sands o’ Dee, The generous-hearted Leopold, the good and the free, Who was […]...
26. The Death Bed We watch’d her breathing thro’ the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. But when the morn came dim and sad And chill with early showers, Her queit eyelids closed – she had Another morn than ours....
27. A PASTORAL SUNG TO THE KING MONTANO, SILVIO, AND MIRTILLO, SHEPHERDS MON. Bad are the times. SIL. And worse than they are we. MON. Troth, bad are both; worse fruit, and ill the tree: The feast of shepherds fail. SIL. None crowns the cup Of wassail now, or sets the quintel up: And he, who used to lead the country-round, Youthful […]...
28. King Arthur's Tomb Hot August noon: already on that day Since sunrise through the Wiltshire downs, most sad Of mouth and eye, he had gone leagues of way; Ay and by night, till whether good or bad He was, he knew not, though he knew perchance That he was Launcelot, the bravest knight Of all who since the […]...
29. The Death Of A Fly There was once a man who disguised himself as a Housefly and went about the neighborhood depositing Flyspecks. Well, he has to do something hasn’t he? said someone to Someone else. Of course, said someone else back to someone. Then what’s all the fuss? said someone to someone else. Who’s fussing? I’m just saying that […]...
30. An Adventure in the Life of King James V of Scotland On one occasion King James the Fifth of Scotland, when alone, in disguise, Near by the Bridge of Cramond met with rather a disagreeable surprise. He was attacked by five gipsy men without uttering a word, But he manfully defended himself with his sword. There chanced to be a poor man threshing corn in a […]...
31. If I Were King If I were king, my pipe should be premier. The skies of time and chance are seldom clear, We would inform them all with bland blue weather. Delight alone would need to shed a tear, For dream and deed should war no more together. Art should aspire, yet ugliness be dear; Beauty, the shaft, should […]...
32. On the Field of Kulicovo The river stretched. It flows, idly grieves, And washes both banks. In steppe, above light clay of cliffs Rinks mourn in ranks. O Russia! Dear wife! With clearness and pain We see the lengthy way! It sent an arrow of ancient Tartar reign – In breast it lay. The way through steppes and an incessant […]...
33. McGonagall's Ode to the King Oh! God, I thank Thee for restoring King Edward the Seventh’s health again, And let all his subjects throughout the Empire say Amen; May God guard him by night and day, At home and abroad, when he’s far away. May angels guard his bed at night when he lies down, And may his subjects revere […]...
34. Sonnet: Oh! Death will find me, long before I tire Oh! Death will find me, long before I tire Of watching you; and swing me suddenly Into the shade and loneliness and mire Of the last land! There, waiting patiently, One day, I think, I’ll feel a cool wind blowing, See a slow light across the Stygian tide, And hear the Dead about me stir, […]...
35. The King's Experiment It was a wet wan hour in spring, And Nature met King Doom beside a lane, Wherein Hodge trudged, all blithely ballading The Mother’s smiling reign. “Why warbles he that skies are fair And coombs alight,” she cried, “and fallows gay, When I have placed no sunshine in the air Or glow on earth to-day?” […]...
36. 465. Song-It was a' for our rightfu' King IT was a’ for our rightfu’ King We left fair Scotland’s strand; It was a’ for our rightfu’ King We e’er saw Irish land, my dear, We e’er saw Irish land. Now a’ is done that men can do, And a’ is done in vain; My Love and Native Land fareweel, For I maun cross […]...
37. A Fence NOW the stone house on the lake front is finished and the Workmen are beginning the fence. The palings are made of iron bars with steel points that Can stab the life out of any man who falls on them. As a fence, it is a masterpiece, and will shut off the rabble And all […]...
38. 352. The Song of Death FAREWELL, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies, Now gay with the broad setting sun; Farewell, loves and friendships, ye dear tender ties, Our race of existence is run! Thou grim King of Terrors; thou Life’s gloomy foe! Go, frighten the coward and slave; Go, teach them to tremble, fell tyrant! but know […]...
39. Death and Burial of Lord Tennyson Alas! England now mourns for her poet that’s gone- The late and the good Lord Tennyson. I hope his soul has fled to heaven above, Where there is everlasting joy and love. He was a man that didn’t care for company, Because company interfered with his study, And confused the bright ideas in his brain, […]...
40. Poetry Sometimes I tremble like a storm-swept flower, And seek to hide my tortured soul from thee. Bowing my head in deep humility Before the silent thunder of thy power. Sometimes I flee before thy blazing light, As from the specter of pursuing death; Intimidated lest thy mighty breath, Windways, will sweep me into utter night. […]...