Bereavement

Related poetry:

1. Bereavement Whose was that gentle voice, that, whispering sweet, Promised methought long days of bliss sincere! Soothing it stole on my deluded ear, Most like soft music, that might sometimes cheat Thoughts dark and drooping! ‘Twas the voice of Hope. Of love and social scenes, it seemed to speak, Of truth, of friendship, of affection meek; […]...
2. Song Of The Orphan I am no one and never will be anyone, For I am far too small to claim to be; Not even later. Mothers and Fathers, Take pity on me. I fear it will not pay to raise me: I shall fall victim to the mower’s scythe. No one can find me useful now: I am […]...
3. THE AMARANTH Bhaskar Roy Barman The kaleidoscope stood befrilled with splendour; No messenger from on high did descend to hand It blessings, though. The rassling trees coruscated in an interplay of light and dark, The sun dipping down the western horizon. Exuding a unisonant desire to search for the amaranth, A group of youths were chanting their […]...
4. To Cesario CESARIO, thy Lyre’s dulcet measure, So sweetly, so tenderly flows; That could my sad soul taste of pleasure, Thy music would soften its woes. But ah, gentle soother, where anguish Takes root in the grief-stricken heart; ‘Tis the triumph of sorrow to languish, ‘Tis rapture to cherish the smart. The mind where pale Mis’ry sits […]...
5. Bereavement in their death to feel Bereavement in their death to feel Whom We have never seen A Vital Kinsmanship import Our Soul and theirs between For Stranger Strangers do not mourn There be Immortal friends Whom Death see first ’tis news of this That paralyze Ourselves Who, vital only to Our Thought Such Presence bear away In dying ’tis as […]...
6. Sonnet: Languid, And Sad, And Slow, From Day To Day Languid, and sad, and slow, from day to day I journey on, yet pensive turn to view (Where the rich landscape gleams with softer hue) The streams and vales, and hills, that steal away. So fares it with the children of the earth: For when life’s goodly prospect opens round, Their spirits beat to tread […]...
7. 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 […]...
8. Elegy to the Memory of Richard Boyle, Esq NEAR yon bleak mountain’s dizzy height, That hangs o’er AVON’s silent wave; By the pale Crescent’s glimm’ring light, I sought LORENZO’s lonely grave. O’er the long grass the silv’ry dew, Soft Twilight’s tears spontaneous shone; And the dank bough of baneful yew Supply’d the place of sculptured stone. Oft, as my trembling steps drew near, […]...
9. Morning Joy At night the wide and level stretch of wold, Which at high noon had basked in quiet gold, Far as the eye could see was ghostly white; Dark was the night save for the snow’s weird light. I drew the shades far down, crept into bed; Hearing the cold wind moaning overhead Through the sad […]...
10. 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 […]...
11. Weep On, Weep On Weep on, weep on, your hour is past, Your dreams of pride are o’er; The fatal chain is round you cast, And you are men no more. In vain the hero’s heart hath bled; The sage’s tongue hath warn’d in vain; Oh, Freedom! once thy flame hath fled, It never lights again! Weep on perhaps […]...
12. The Faded Bouquet FAIR was this blushing ROSE of May, And fresh it hail’d morn’s breezy hour, When ev’ry spangled leaf look’d gay, Besprinkled with the twilight show’r; When to its mossy buds so sweet, The BUTTERFLY enamour’d flew, And hov’ring o’er the fragrant treat, Oft bath’d its silken wings in dew. SWEET was this PRIMROSE of the […]...
13. Behold, the grave of a wicked man Behold, the grave of a wicked man, And near it, a stern spirit. There came a drooping maid with violets, But the spirit grasped her arm. “No flowers for him,” he said. The maid wept: “Ah, I loved him.” But the spirit, grim and frowning: “No flowers for him.” Now, this is it If the […]...
14. Sir Richard's Song (A. D. 1066) I followed my Duke ere I was a lover, To take from England fief and fee; But now this game is the other way over But now England hath taken me! I had my horse, my shield and banner, And a boy’s heart, so whole and free; But now I sing in […]...
15. The Day Is Gone, And All Its Sweets Are Gone The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone! Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast, Warm breath, light whisper, tender semitone, Bright eyes, accomplished shape, and lang’rous waist! Faded the flower and all its budded charms, Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes, Faded the shape of beauty from my […]...
16. 126. Lines written on a Bank-note WAE worth thy power, thou cursed leaf! Fell source o’ a’ my woe and grief! For lack o’ thee I’ve lost my lass! For lack o’ thee I scrimp my glass! I see the children of affliction Unaided, through thy curst restriction: I’ve seen the oppressor’s cruel smile Amid his hapless victim’s spoil; And for […]...
17. Eveleen's Bower Oh! weep for the hour, When to Eveleen’s bower, The Lord of the Valley with false vows came; The moon hid her light, From the heavens that night, And wept behind her clouds o’er the maiden’s shame. The clouds pass’d soon From the chaste cold moon, And heaven smiled again with her vestal flame; But […]...
18. Prelude – Tristan And Isolde Fate, out of the deep sea’s gloom, When a man’s heart’s pride grows great, And nought seems now to foredoom Fate, Fate, laden with fears in wait, Draws close through the clouds that loom, Till the soul see, all too late, More dark than a dead world’s tomb, More high than the sheer dawn’s gate, […]...
19. When the Rose is Faded When the rose is faded, Memory may still dwell on Her beauty shadowed, And the sweet smell gone. That vanishing loveliness, That burdening breath, No bond of life hath then, Nor grief of death. ‘Tis the immortal thought Whose passion still Makes the changing The unchangeable. Oh, thus thy beauty, Loveliest on earth to me, […]...
20. Prometheus Titan! to whose immortal eyes The sufferings of mortality, Seen in their sad reality, Were not as things that gods despise; What was thy pity’s recompense? A silent suffering, and intense; The rock, the vulture, and the chain, All that the proud can feel of pain, The agony they do not show, The suffocating sense […]...
21. Children of Lir WE woke from our sleep in the bosom where cradled together we lay: The love of the dark hidden Father went with us upon our way. And gay was the breath in our being, and never a sorrow or fear Was on us as, singing together, we flew from the infinite Lir. Through nights lit […]...
22. The Amaranth Ah, in the night, all music haunts me here. . . . Is it for naught high Heaven cracks and yawns And the tremendous Amaranth descends Sweet with the glory of ten thousand dawns? Does it not mean my God would have me say: – “Whether you will or no, O city young, Heaven will […]...
23. A Little Budding Rose It was a little budding rose, Round like a fairy globe, And shyly did its leaves unclose Hid in their mossy robe, But sweet was the slight and spicy smell It breathed from its heart invisible. The rose is blasted, withered, blighted, Its root has felt a worm, And like a heart beloved and slighted, […]...
24. St. Agnes' Eve Deep on the convent-roof the snows Are sparkling to the moon: My breath to heaven like vapour goes; May my soul follow soon! The shadows of the convent-towers Slant down the snowy sward, Still creeping with the creeping hours That lead me to my Lord: Make Thou my spirit pure and clear As are the […]...
25. Dreams Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awakening, till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow. Yes! tho’ that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, ‘Twere better than the cold reality Of waking life, to him whose heart must be, And hath been still, upon the lovely earth, […]...
26. Hymn 105 Heaven invisible and holy. 1 Cor. 2:9,10; Rev. 21:27. Nor eye hath seen, nor ear hath heard, Nor sense nor reason known, What joys the Father hath prepared For those that love the Son. But the good Spirit of the Lord Reveals a heav’n to come; The beams of glory in his word Allure and […]...
27. West London Crouch’d on the pavement close by Belgrave Square A tramp I saw, ill, moody, and tongue-tied; A babe was in her arms, and at her side A girl; their clothes were rags, their feet were bare. Some labouring men, whose work lay somewhere there, Pass’d opposite; she touch’d her girl, who hied Across, and begg’d […]...
28. Going to Heaven! Going to Heaven! I don’t know when Pray do not ask me how! Indeed I’m too astonished To think of answering you! Going to Heaven! How dim it sounds! And yet it will be done As sure as flocks go home at night Unto the Shepherd’s arm! Perhaps you’re going too! Who knows? If you […]...
29. Lesbia Hath a Beaming Eye Lesbia hath a beaming eye, But no one knows for whom it beameth; Right and left its arrows fly, But what they aim at no one dreameth. Sweeter ’tis to gaze upon My Nora’s lid that seldom rises; Few its looks, but every one, Like unexpected light, surprises! Oh, my Nora Creina, dear, My gentle, […]...
30. Aperotos Eros Strong as death, and cruel as the grave, Clothed with cloud and tempest’s blackening breath, Known of death’s dread self, whom none outbrave, Strong as death, Love, brow-bound with anguish for a wreath, Fierce with pain, a tyrant-hearted slave, Burns above a world that groans beneath. Hath not pity power on thee to save, Love? […]...
31. Lines to the memory of Richard Boyle, Esq “Fate snatch’d him early to the pitying sky.” – POPE. IF WORTH, too early to the grave consign’d, Can claim the pitying tear, or touch the mind? If manly sentiments unstain’d by art, Could waken FRIENDSHIP, or delight the heart? Ill-fated youth! to THEE the MUSE shall pay The last sad tribute of a mournful […]...
32. This Merit hath the worst This Merit hath the worst It cannot be again When Fate hath taunted last And thrown Her furthest Stone The Maimed may pause, and breathe, And glance securely round The Deer attracts no further Than it resists the Hound...
33. What shall I do with this body they gave me What shall I do with this body they gave me, So much my own, so intimate with me? For being alive, for the joy of calm breath, Tell me, who should I bless? I am the flower, and the gardener as well, And am not solitary, in earth’s cell. My living warmth, exhaled, you can […]...
34. Son-Days 1 Bright shadows of true Rest! some shoots of bliss, Heaven once a week; The next world’s gladness prepossest in this; A day to seek; Eternity in time; the steps by which We Climb above all ages; Lamps that light Man through his heap of dark days; and the rich, And full redemption of the […]...
35. Summer Wind It is a sultry day; the sun has drank The dew that lay upon the morning grass, There is no rustling in the lofty elm That canopies my dwelling, and its shade Scarce cools me. All is silent, save the faint And interrupted murmur of the bee, Settling on the sick flowers, and then again […]...
36. Sonnet XLIX: Thou Leaden Brain Thou leaden brain, which censur’st what I write, And say’st my lines be dull and do not move, I marvel not thou feel’st not my delight, Which never felt’st my fiery touch of love. But thou, whose pen hath like a pack-horse serv’d, Whose stomach unto gall hath turn’d thy food, Whose senses, like poor […]...
37. And ask ye why these sad tears stream? ‘Te somnia nostra reducunt.’ OVID. And ask ye why these sad tears stream? Why these wan eyes are dim with weeping? I had a dream-a lovely dream, Of her that in the grave is sleeping. I saw her as ’twas yesterday, The bloom upon her cheek still glowing; And round her play’d a golden ray, […]...
38. Ask Me No More Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea; The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape, With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape; But O too fond, when have I answer’d thee? Ask me no more. Ask me no more: what answer should I give? I love not hollow […]...
39. Past Days I. Dead and gone, the days we had together, Shadow-stricken all the lights that shone Round them, flown as flies the blown foam’s feather, Dead and gone. Where we went, we twain, in time foregone, Forth by land and sea, and cared not whether, If I go again, I go alone. Bound am I with […]...
40. Happy Dust For Margot Snow that fallest from heaven, bear me aloft on thy wings To the domes of the star-girdled Seven, the abode of Ineffable things, Quintessence of joy and of strength, that, abolishing Future and past, Mak’st the Present an infinite length, my soul all-One With the Vast, The Lone, the Unnameable God, that is […]...