Home ⇒ 📌Samuel Coleridge ⇒ The Knight's Tomb
The Knight's Tomb
Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O’Kellyn?
Where may the grave of that good man be?
By the side of a spring, on the breast of Helvellyn,
Under the twigs of a young birch tree!
The oak that in summer was sweet to hear,
And rustled its leaves in the fall of the year,
And whistled and roared in the winter alone,
Is gone, and the birch in its stead is grown.
The Knight’s bones are dust,
And his good sword rust;
His soul is with the saints, I trust.
(2 votes, average: 4.00 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- The Knights Of St. John Oh, nobly shone the fearful cross upon your mail afar, When Rhodes and Acre hailed your might, O lions of the war! When leading many a pilgrim horde, through wastes of Syrian gloom; Or standing with the cherub’s sword before the holy tomb. Yet on your forms the apron seemed a nobler armor far, When […]...
- Tarrant Moss I closed and drew for my love’s sake That now is false to me, And I slew the Reiver of Tarrant Moss And set Dumeny free. They have gone down, they have gone down, They are standing all arow Twenty knights in the peat-water, That never struck a blow! Their armour shall not dull nor […]...
- Epitaph Even such is time, which takes in trust Our youth, our joys, and all we have, And pays us but with age and dust, Who in the dark and silent grave When we have wandered all our ways Shuts up the story of our days, And from which earth, and grave, and dust The Lord […]...
- The Conclusion EVEN such is Time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with earth and dust; Who in the dark and silent grave, When we have wander’d all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days; But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God […]...
- Psalm 49 The rich sinner’s death, and the saint’s resurrection. Why do the proud insult the poor, And boast the large estates they have? How vain are riches to secure Their haughty owners from the grave! They can’t redeem one hour from death, With all the wealth in which they trust; Nor give a dying brother breath, […]...
- The Poets Of The Tomb The world has had enough of bards who wish that they were dead, ‘Tis time the people passed a law to knock ’em on the head, For ‘twould be lovely if their friends could grant the rest they crave Those bards of ‘tears’ and ‘vanished hopes’, those poets of the grave. They say that life’s […]...
- At Melville's Tomb Often beneath the wave, wide from this ledge The dice of drowned men’s bones he saw bequeath An embassy. Their numbers as he watched, Beat on the dusty shore and were obscured. And wrecks passed without sound of bells, The calyx of death’s bounty giving back A scattered chapter, livid hieroglyph, The portent wound in […]...
- 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 […]...
- Psalm 62 v.5-12 L. M. No trust in the creatures; or, Faith in Divine grace and power. My spirit looks to God alone; My rock and refuge is his throne; In all my fears, in all my straits, My soul on his salvation waits. Trust him, ye saints, in all your ways, Pour out your hearts before […]...
- The Ballad Of Lenin's Tomb This is the yarn he told me As we sat in Casey’s Bar, That Rooshun mug who scammed from the jug In the Land of the Crimson Star; That Soviet guy with the single eye, And the face like a flaming scar. Where Lenin lies the red flag flies, and the rat-grey workers wait To […]...
- Church Monuments While that my soul repairs to her devotion, Here I intomb my flesh, that it betimes May take acquaintance of this heap of dust; To which the blast of death’s incessant motion, Fed with the exhalation of our crimes, Drives all at last. Therefore I gladly trust My body to this school, that it may […]...
- Hymn 24 The rich sinner dying. Psa. 49:6,9; Eccl. 8:8; Job 3:14,15. In vain the wealthy mortals toil, And heap their shining dust in vain, Look down and scorn the humble poor, And boast their lofty hills of gain. Their golden cordials cannot ease Their pained hearts or aching heads, Nor fright nor bribe approaching death From […]...
- In the Old Age of the Soul I do not choose to dream; there cometh on me Some strange old lust for deeds. As to the nerveless hand of some old warrior The sword-hilt or the war-worn wonted helmet Brings momentary life and long-fled cunning, So to my soul grown old – Grown old with many a jousting, many a foray, Grown […]...
- Psalm 31 part 1 v.5,13-19,22,23 C. M. Deliverance from death. Unto thine hand, O God of truth, My spirit I commit; Thou hast redeemed my soul from death, And saved me from the pit. The passions of my hope and fear Maintained a doubtful strife, While sorrow, pain, and sin conspired To take away my life. “My times are […]...
- The Bishop Orders His Tomb At Saint Praxed's Church Vanity, saith the preacher, vanity! Draw round my bed: is Anselm keeping back? Nephews sons mine ah God, I know not! Well She, men would have to be your mother once, Old Gandolf envied me, so fair she was! What’s done is done, and she is dead beside, Dead long ago, and I am Bishop […]...
- A Psalm of Life WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN SAID TO THE PSALMIST. Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust […]...
- The Temper How should I praise thee, Lord! how should my rhymes Gladly engrave thy love in steel, If what my soul doth feel sometimes My soul might ever feel! Although there were some forty heav’ns, or more, Sometimes I peer above them all; Sometimes I hardly reach a score, Sometimes to hell I fall. O rack […]...
- Psalm 7 God’s care of his people. My trust is in my heav’nly Friend, My hope in thee, my God; Rise, and my helpless life defend From those that seek my blood. With insolence and fury they My soul in pieces tear, As hungry lions rend the prey, When no deliverer’s near. If I had e’er provoked […]...
- Psalm 149 Praise God, all his saints or, The saints judging the world. All ye that love the Lord, rejoice, And let your songs be new; Amidst the church with cheerful voice His later wonders show. The Jews, the people of his grace, Shall their Redeemer sing; And Gentile nations join the praise, While Zion owns her […]...
- The Crooked Stick First Traveller: What’s that lying in the dust? Second Traveller: A crooked stick. First Traveller: What’s it worth, if you can trust to arithmetic? Second Traveller: Isn’t this a riddle? First Traveller: No, a trick. Second Traveller:It’s worthless, leave it where it lies. First Traveller: Wait; count ten; Rub a little dust upon your eyes; […]...
- Psalm 14 part 2 The folly of persecutors. Are sinners now so senseless grown That they the saints devour? And never worship at thy throne, Nor fear thine awful power? Great God! appear to their surprise; Reveal thy dreadful name; Let them no more thy wrath despise, Nor turn our hope to shame. Dost thou not dwell among the […]...
- Crumbling is not an instant's Act Crumbling is not an instant’s Act A fundamental pause Dilapidation’s processes Are organized Decays. ‘Tis first a Cobweb on the Soul A Cuticle of Dust A Borer in the Axis An Elemental Rust Ruin is formal Devil’s work Consecutive and slow Fail in an instant, no man did Slipping is Crash’s law....
- Psalm 49 part 2 v.14,15 C. M. Death and the resurrection. Ye sons of pride, that hate the just And trample on the poor, When death has brought you down to dust, Your pomp shall rise no more. The last great day shall change the scene; When will that hour appear? When shall the just revive, and reign O’er […]...
- Nature that Washed Her Hands in Milk Nature, that washed her hands in milk, And had forgot to dry them, Instead of earth took snow and silk, At love’s request to try them, If she a mistress could compose To please love’s fancy out of those. Her eyes he would should be of light, A violet breath, and lips of jelly; Her […]...
- The Mountain Tomb Pour wine and dance if manhood still have pride, Bring roses if the rose be yet in bloom; The cataract smokes upon the mountain side, Our Father Rosicross is in his tomb. Pull down the blinds, bring fiddle and clarionet That there be no foot silent in the room Nor mouth from kissing, nor from […]...
- Rhyme For My Tomb Here lyeth one Who loved the sun; Who lived with zest, Whose work was done, Reward, dear Lord, Thy weary son: May he be blest With peace and rest, Nor wake again, Amen....
- At the Tomb of Napoleon I stood beside his sepulchre whose fame, Hurled over Europe once on bolt and blast, Now glows far off as storm-clouds overpast Glow in the sunset flushed with glorious flame. Has Nature marred his mould? Can Art acclaim No hero now, no man with whom men side As with their hearts’ high needs personified? There […]...
- An Arundel Tomb Side by side, their faces blurred, The earl and countess lie in stone, Their proper habits vaguely shown As jointed armour, stiffened pleat, And that faint hint of the absurd – The little dogs under their feet. Such plainness of the pre-baroque Hardly involves the eye, until It meets his left-hand gauntlet, still Clasped empty […]...
- Psalm 56 Deliverance from oppression and falsehood. O Thou whose justice reigns on high, And makes th’ oppressor cease, Behold how envious sinners try To vex and break my peace. The sons of violence and lies Join to devour me, Lord; But as my hourly dangers rise, My refuge is thy word. In God most holy, just, […]...
- Love Lives Beyond The Tomb Love lives beyond the tomb, And earth, which fades like dew! I love the fond, The faithful, and the true. Love lives in sleep: ‘Tis happiness of healthy dreams: Eve’s dews may weep, But love delightful seems. ‘Tis seen in flowers, And in the morning’s pearly dew; In earth’s green hours, And in the heaven’s […]...
- Jehovah-Nissi. The Lord My Banner (Exodus, xvii.15) By whom was David taught To aim the deadly blow, When he Goliath fought, And laid the Gittite low? Nor sword nor spear the stripling took, But chose a pebble from the brook. ‘Twas Israel’s God and King Who sent him to the fight; Who gave him strength to sling, And skill to […]...
- Psalm 34 part 1 God’s care of the saints; or, Deliverance by prayer. Lord, I will bless thee all my days, Thy praise shall dwell upon my tongue My soul shall glory in thy grace, While saints rejoice to hear the song. Come, magnify the Lord with me, Come, let us all exalt his name; I sought th’ eternal […]...
- When I am asleep and crumbling in the tomb When I am asleep and crumbling in the tomb, should you come To visit me, I will come forth with speed. You are for me the blast of the trumpet and the resurrection, So what shall I do? Dead or living, wherever you are, there am I. Without your lip I am a frozen and […]...
- The Birch-Tree at Loschwitz At Loschwitz above the city The air is sunny and chill; The birch-trees and the pine-trees Grow thick upon the hill. Lone and tall, with silver stem, A birch-tree stands apart; The passionate wind of spring-time Stirs in its leafy heart. I lean against the birch-tree, My arms around it twine; It pulses, and leaps, […]...
- Song Tho’ veiled in spires of myrtle-wreath, Love is a sword that cuts its sheath, And thro’ the clefts, itself has made, We spy the flashes of the Blade! But thro’ the clefts, itself has made, We likewise see Love’s flashing blade, By rust consumed or snapt in twain : And only Hilt and Stump remain....
- The Immortal Part When I meet the morning beam, Or lay me down at night to dream, I hear my bones within me say, “Another night, another day. “When shall this slough of sense be cast, This dust of thoughts be laid at last, The man of flesh and soul be slain And the man of bone remain? […]...
- Lay His Sword By His Side Lay his sword by his side it hath served him too well Not to rest near his pillow below; To the last moment true, from his hand ere it fell, Its point was still turn’d to a flying foe. Fellow-labourers in life, let them slumber in death, Side by side, as becomes the reposing brave […]...
- The Choirmaster's Burial He often would ask us That, when he died, After playing so many To their last rest, If out of us any Should here abide, And it would not task us, We would with our lutes Play over him By his grave-brim The psalm he liked best- The one whose sense suits “Mount Ephraim”- And […]...
- At leisure is the Soul At leisure is the Soul That gets a Staggering Blow The Width of Life before it spreads Without a thing to do It begs you give it Work But just the placing Pins Or humblest Patchwork Children do To Help its Vacant Hands...
- Hymn 37 Christ’s intercession. Lift up your eyes to th’ heav’nly seats Where your Redeemer stays; Kind Intercessor, there he sits, And loves, and pleads, and prays. ‘Twas well, my soul, he died for thee, And shed his vital blood; Appeased stern justice on the tree, And then arose to God. Petitions now, and praise may rise, […]...