A Refusal To Mourn The Death, By Fire, Of A Child In London

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1. A City's Death By Fire After that hot gospeller has levelled all but the churched sky, I wrote the tale by tallow of a city’s death by fire; Under a candle’s eye, that smoked in tears, I Wanted to tell, in more than wax, of faiths that were snapped like wire. All day I walked abroad among the rubbled tales, […]...
2. An Epitaph On Mr. Fishborne The Great London Benefactor, And His Executor What are thy gaines, O death, if one man ly Stretch’d in a bed of clay, whose charity Doth hereby get occasion to redeeme Thousands out of the grave: though cold hee seeme He keepes those warme that else would sue to thee, Even thee, to ease them of theyr penury. Sorrow I would, but […]...
3. On The University Carrier Who Sickn'd In The Time Of His Vacancy, Being Forbid To Go To London, By Reason Of The Plague Here lies old Hobson, Death hath broke his girt, And here alas, hath laid him in the dirt, Or els the ways being foul, twenty to one, He’s here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. ‘Twas such a shifter, that if truth were known, Death was half glad when he had got him down; For […]...
4. I Have A Rendezvous With Death I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade, When Spring comes back with rustling shade And apple-blossoms fill the air – I have a rendezvous with Death When Spring brings back blue days and fair. It may be he shall take my hand And lead me into his dark land And close my […]...
5. TO THE LADY CREWE, UPON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD Why, Madam, will ye longer weep, Whenas your baby’s lull’d asleep? And, pretty child, feels now no more Those pains it lately felt before. All now is silent; groans are fled; Your child lies still, yet is not dead, But rather like a flower hid here, To spring again another year....
6. Hymn 22 part 1 Christ the eternal life. Rom. 9:5. Jesus, our Savior and our God, Arrayed in majesty and blood, Thou art our life; our souls in thee Possess a full felicity. All our immortal hopes are laid In thee, our surety and our head; Thy cross, thy cradle, and thy throne, Are big with glories yet unknown. […]...
7. On The Death Of Anne Bronte There’s little joy in life for me, And little terror in the grave; I’ve lived the parting hour to see Of one I would have died to save. Calmly to watch the failing breath, Wishing each sigh might be the last; Longing to see the shade of death O’er those beloved features cast; The cloud, […]...
8. My Book Before I drink myself to death, God, let me finish up my Book! At night, I fear, I fight for breath, And wake up whiter than a spook; And crawl off to a bistro near, And drink until my brain is clear. Rare Absinthe! Oh, it gives me strength To write and write; and so […]...
9. Refusal Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave Irreverent. Those sweet excesses that I do adore. What surety is there That we will meet again, On other worlds some Future time undated. I defy my body’s haste. Without the promise Of one more sweet encounter I […]...
10. Father Death Blues (Don't Grow Old, Part V) Hey Father Death, I’m flying home Hey poor man, you’re all alone Hey old daddy, I know where I’m going Father Death, Don’t cry any more Mama’s there, underneath the floor Brother Death, please mind the store Old Aunty Death Don’t hide your bones Old Uncle Death I hear your groans O Sister Death how […]...
11. Let Me Die a Youngman's Death Let me die a youngman’s death Not a clean and inbetween The sheets holywater death Not a famous-last-words Peaceful out of breath death When I’m 73 And in constant good tumour May I be mown down at dawn By a bright red sports car On my way home From an allnight party Or when I’m […]...
12. So give me back to Death So give me back to Death The Death I never feared Except that it deprived of thee And now, by Life deprived, In my own Grave I breathe And estimate its size Its size is all that Hell can guess And all that Heaven was...
13. The Wreck of the Steamer London ‘Twas in the year of 1866, and on a very beautiful day, That eighty-two passengers, with spirits light and gay, Left Gravesend harbour, and sailed gaily away On board the steamship “London,” Bound for the city of Melbourne, Which unfortunately was her last run, Because she was wrecked on the stormy main, Which has caused […]...
14. The Sea-Child HE crawls to the cliff and plays on a brink Where every eye but his own would shrink; No music he hears but the billow’s noise, And shells and weeds are his only toys. No lullaby can the mother find To sing him to rest like the moaning wind; And the louder it wails and […]...
15. 54. Man was made to Mourn: A Dirge WHEN chill November’s surly blast Made fields and forests bare, One ev’ning, as I wander’d forth Along the banks of Ayr, I spied a man, whose aged step Seem’d weary, worn with care; His face furrow’d o’er with years, And hoary was his hair. “Young stranger, whither wand’rest thou?” Began the rev’rend sage; “Does thirst […]...
16. Death Nor dread nor hope attend A dying animal; A man awaits his end Dreading and hoping all; Many times he died, Many times rose again. A great man in his pride Confronting murderous men Casts derision upon Supersession of breath; He knows death to the bone – Man has created death....
17. Death Fugue Black milk of daybreak we drink it at sundown We drink it at noon in the morning we drink it at night We drink it and drink it We dig a grave in the breezes there one lies unconfined A man lives in the house he plays with the serpents he writes He writes when […]...
18. On the Death of Robert Browning He held no dream worth waking; so he said, He who stands now on death’s triumphal steep, Awakened out of life wherein we sleep And dream of what he knows and sees, being dead. But never death for him was dark or dread; “Look forth,” he bade the soul, and fear not. Weep, All ye […]...
19. The Night-Fire No engines shrieking rescue storm the night, And hose and hydrant cannot here avail; The flames laugh high and fling their challenging light, And clouds turn gray and black from silver-pale. The fire leaps out and licks the ancient walls, And the big building bends and twists and groans. A bar drops from its place; […]...
20. London Voluntaries IV: Out of the Poisonous East Out of the poisonous East, Over a continent of blight, Like a maleficent Influence released From the most squalid cellerage of hell, The Wind-Fiend, the abominable The Hangman Wind that tortures temper and light Comes slouching, sullen and obscene, Hard on the skirts of the embittered night; And in a cloud unclean Of excremental humours, […]...
21. Such, Such Is Death Such, such is Death: no triumph: no defeat: Only an empty pail, a slate rubbed clean, A merciful putting away of what has been. And this we know: Death is not Life, effete, Life crushed, the broken pail. We who have seen So marvellous things know well the end not yet. Victor and vanquished are […]...
22. Birth And Death Birth and death, twin-sister and twin-brother, Night and day, on all things that draw breath, Reign, while time keeps friends with one another Birth and death. Each brow-bound with flowers diverse of wreath, Heaven they hail as father, earth as mother, Faithful found above them and beneath. Smiles may lighten tears, and tears may smother […]...
23. Wait till the Majesty of Death Wait till the Majesty of Death Invests so mean a brow! Almost a powdered Footman Might dare to touch it now! Wait till in Everlasting Robes That Democrat is dressed, Then prate about “Preferment” And “Station,” and the rest! Around this quiet Courtier Obsequious Angels wait! Full royal is his Retinue! Full purple is his […]...
24. To a Child of Quality, Five Years Old, 1704. The Author then Forty LORDS, knights, and squires, the numerous band That wear the fair Miss Mary’s fetters, Were summoned by her high command To show their passions by their letters. My pen amongst the rest I took, Lest those bright eyes, that cannot read, Should dart their kindling fire, and look The power they have to be obey’d. […]...
25. An Irish Airman Forsees His Death I know that I shall meet my fate Somewhere among the clouds above; Those that I fight I do not hate, Those that I guard I do not love; My county is Kiltartan Cross, My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor, No likely end could bring them loss Or leave them happier than before. Nor law, nor duty […]...
26. Death Death is a road our dearest friends have gone; Why with such leaders, fear to say, “Lead on?” Its gate repels, lest it too soon be tried, But turns in balm on the immortal side. Mothers have passed it: fathers, children; men Whose like we look not to behold again; Women that smiled away their […]...
27. On The Death Of Ladie Caesar Though Death to good men be the greatest boone, I dare not think this Lady dyde so soone. She should have livde for others: Poor mens want Should make her stande, though she herselfe should faynt. What though her vertuous deeds did make her seeme Of equall age with old Methusalem? Shee should have livde […]...
28. I'd Mourn the Hopes I’d mourn the hopes that leave me, If thy smiles had left me too; I’d weep when friends deceive me, If thou wert, like them, untrue. But while I’ve thee before me, With heart so warm and eyes so bright, No clouds can linger o’er me, That smile turns them all to light. ‘Tis not […]...
29. And Death Shall Have No Dominion And death shall have no dominion. Dead mean naked they shall be one With the man in the wind and the west moon; When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone, They shall have stars at elbow and foot; Though they go mad they shall be sane, Though they sink through the […]...
30. This Side Of The Truth (for Llewelyn) This side of the truth, You may not see, my son, King of your blue eyes In the blinding country of youth, That all is undone, Under the unminding skies, Of innocence and guilt Before you move to make One gesture of the heart or head, Is gathered and spilt Into the winding […]...
31. Death It is not death, that sometime in a sigh This eloquent breath shall take its speechless flight; That sometime these bright stars, that now reply In sunlight to the sun, shall set in night; That this warm conscious flesh shall perish quite, And all life’s ruddy springs forget to flow; That thoughts shall cease, and […]...
32. The Child on the Curbstone The headlights raced; the moon, death-faced, Stared down on that golden river. I saw through the smoke the scarlet cloak Of a boy who could not shiver. His father’s hand forced him to stand, The traffic thundered slaughter; One foot he thrust in the whirling dust As it were running water. As in a dream […]...
33. If I Could Mourn Like A Mourning Dove It is what recurs that we believe, Your face not at one moment looking Sideways up at me anguished or Elate, but the old words welling up by Gravity rearranged: Two weeks before you died in Pain worn out, after my usual casual sign-off With All my love, your simple Solemn My love to you, […]...
34. London Poets (In Memoriam.) They trod the streets and squares where now I tread, With weary hearts, a little while ago; When, thin and grey, the melancholy snow Clung to the leafless branches overhead; Or when the smoke-veiled sky grew stormy-red In autumn; with a re-arisen woe Wrestled, what time the passionate spring winds blow; And paced […]...
35. 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 […]...
36. The Ship of Death I Now it is autumn and the falling fruit And the long journey towards oblivion. The apples falling like great drops of dew To bruise themselves an exit from themselves. And it is time to go, to bid farewell To one’s own self, and find an exit From the fallen self. II Have you built […]...
37. A Death-Bed 1918 This is the State above the Law. The State exists for the State alone.” [This is a gland at the back of the jaw, And an answering lump by the collar-bone.], Some die shouting in gas or fire; Some die silent, by shell and shot. Some die desperate, caught on the wire – Some […]...
38. On The Death Of A Twin Where are yee now, Astrologers, that looke For petty accidents in Heavens booke? Two Twins, to whom one Influence gave breath, Differ in more than Fortune, Life and Death. While both were warme (for that was all they were Unlesse some feeble cry sayd Life was there By wavering change of health they seem’d to […]...
39. Unit, like Death, for Whom? Unit, like Death, for Whom? True, like the Tomb, Who tells no secret Told to Him The Grave is strict Tickets admit Just two the Bearer And the Borne And seat just One The Living tell The Dying but a Syllable The Coy Dead None No Chatter here no tea So Babbler, and Bohea stay […]...
40. Ash-Boughs a. Not of all my eyes see, wandering on the world, Is anything a milk to the mind so, so sighs deep Poetry to it, as a tree whose boughs break in the sky. Say it is ashboughs: whether on a December day and furled Fast уr they in clammyish lashtender combs creep Apart wide […]...