Whispers of Heavenly Death

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1. The North Star Whispers to the Blacksmith's Son THE North Star whispers: “You are one Of those whose course no chance can change. You blunder, but are not undone, Your spirit-task is fixed and strange. “When here you walk, a bloodless shade, A singer all men else forget. Your chants of hammer, forge and spade Will move the prarie-village yet. “That young, stiff-necked, […]...
2. John Horace Burleson I won the prize essay at school Here in the village, And published a novel before I was twenty-five. I went to the city for themes and to enrich my art; There married the banker’s daughter, And later became president of the bank- Always looking forward to some leisure To write an epic novel of […]...
3. 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....
4. Because I could not stop for Death Because I could not stop for Death He kindly stopped for me The Carriage held but just Ourselves And Immortality. We slowly drove, he knew no haste And I had put away My labor and my leisure too, For his civility. We passed the School, where Children strove At recess in the ring We passed […]...
5. THE DEATH OF ART “Reading well is one of the great pleasures that solitude can afford you.” -critic Harold Bloom, who first called slam poetry “the death of art.” I am not a poet. I want to be rich and buy things for my family. Besides, I am sort of popular and can honestly say I’ve had a great […]...
6. A Hymn Of Heavenly Beauty Rapt with the rage of mine own ravish’d thought, Through contemplation of those goodly sights, And glorious images in heaven wrought, Whose wondrous beauty, breathing sweet delights Do kindle love in high-conceited sprights; I fain to tell the things that I behold, But feel my wits to fail, and tongue to fold. Vouchsafe then, O […]...
7. TO DEATH Thou bidst me come away, And I’ll no longer stay, Than for to shed some tears For faults of former years; And to repent some crimes Done in the present times; And next, to take a bit Of bread, and wine with it; To don my robes of love, Fit for the place above; To […]...
8. Whispers of Immortality WEBSTER was much possessed by death And saw the skull beneath the skin; And breastless creatures under ground Leaned backward with a lipless grin. Daffodil bulbs instead of balls Stared from the sockets of the eyes! He knew that thought clings round dead limbs Tightening its lusts and luxuries. Donne, I suppose, was such another […]...
9. TO WILLIAM E. CHANNING The pages of thy book I read, And as I closed each one, My heart, responding, ever said, “Servant of God! well done!” Well done! Thy words are great and bold; At times they seem to me, Like Luther’s, in the days of old, Half-battles for the free. Go on, until this land revokes The […]...
10. The Army of Death When you see millions of the mouthless dead Across your dreams in pale battalions go, Say not soft things as other men have said, That you’ll remember. For you need not so. Give them not praise. For, deaf, how should they know It is not curses heaped on each gashed head? Nor tears. Their blind […]...
11. Full Moon One night as Dick lay half asleep, Into his drowsy eyes A great still light began to creep From out the silent skies. It was the lovely moon’s, for when He raised his dreamy head, Her surge of silver filled the pane And streamed across his bed. So, for a while, each gazed at each […]...
12. 202. On the Death of Robert Dundas, Esq., of Arniston LONE on the bleaky hills the straying flocks Shun the fierce storms among the sheltering rocks; Down from the rivulets, red with dashing rains, The gathering floods burst o’er the distant plains; Beneath the blast the leafless forests groan; The hollow caves return a hollow moan. Ye hills, ye plains, ye forests, and ye caves, […]...
13. 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 […]...
14. The Heavenly Hills of Holland The heavenly hills of Holland, How wondrously they rise Above the smooth green pastures Into the azure skies! With blue and purple hollows, With peaks of dazzling snow, Along the far horizon The clouds are marching slow. No mortal foot has trodden The summits of that range, Nor walked those mystic valleys Whose colors ever […]...
15. Far from Love the Heavenly Father Far from Love the Heavenly Father Leads the Chosen Child, Oftener through Realm of Briar Than the Meadow mild. Oftener by the Claw of Dragon Than the Hand of Friend Guides the Little One predestined To the Native Land....
16. 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 […]...
17. 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 […]...
18. Outside Fargo, North Dakota Along the sprawled body of the derailed Great Northern freight car, I strike a match slowly and lift it slowly. No wind. Beyond town, three heavy white horses Wade all the way to their shoulders In a silo shadow. Suddenly the freight car lurches. The door slams back, a man with a flashlight Calls me […]...
19. DEATH-LAMENT OF THE NOBLE WIFE OF ASAN AGA [From the Morlack.) WHAT is yonder white thing in the forest? Is it snow, or can it swans perchance be? Were it snow, ere this it had been melted, Were it swans, they all away had hastend. Snow, in truth, it is not, swans it is not, ‘Tis the shining tents of Asan Aga. He […]...
20. Reuben Bright Because he was a butcher and thereby Did earn an honest living (and did right), I would not have you think that Reuben Bright Was any more a brute than you or I; For when they told him that his wife must die, He stared at them, and shook with grief and fright, And cried […]...
21. The Beauty of Death XIV Part One – The Calling Let me sleep, for my soul is intoxicated with love and Let me rest, for my spirit has had its bounty of days and nights; Light the candles and burn the incense around my bed, and Scatter leaves of jasmine and roses over my body; Embalm my hair with frankincense […]...
22. On The Death Of Sir Thomas Lea You that affright with lamentable notes The servants from their beef, whose hungry throats Vex the grume porter’s surly conscience: That blesse the mint for coyning lesse than pence: You whose unknown and meanly payd desarts Begge silently within, and knocke at hearts: You whose commanding worth makes men beleeve That you a kindnesse give […]...
23. 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, […]...
24. Chapel Deacon Who put that crease in your soul, Davies, ready this fine morning For the staid chapel, where the Book’s frown Sobers the sunlight? Who taught you to pray And scheme at once, your eyes turning Skyward, while your swift mind weighs Your heifer’s chances in the next town’s Fair on Thursday? Are your heart’s coals […]...
25. 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 […]...
26. The Ever-Patient Woman In the flowing sap In her growing fever Parting her veils Cracking out of her shells Sliding out of her skins The ever-patient woman Slowly Gives herself Life In her volcanoes In her orchards Seeking solidity and measure Clasping her most tender flesh Straining every fine-honed fiber The ever-patient woman Slowly Gives herself Light....
27. The Death Of Autumn When reeds are dead and a straw to thatch the marshes, And feathered pampas-grass rides into the wind Like aged warriors westward, tragic, thinned Of half their tribe, and over the flattened rushes, Stripped of its secret, open, stark and bleak, Blackens afar the half-forgotten creek,- Then leans on me the weight of the year, […]...
28. On Death The pale, the cold, and the moony smile Which the meteor beam of a starless night Sheds on a lonely and sea-girt isle, Ere the dawning of morn’s undoubted light, Is the flame of life so fickle and wan That flits round our steps till their strength is gone. O man! hold thee on in […]...
29. A Ninth Birthday Three times thrice hath winter’s rough white wing Crossed and curdled wells and streams with ice Since his birth whose praises love would sing Three times thrice. Earth nor sea bears flower nor pearl of price Fit to crown the forehead of my king, Honey meet to please him, balm, nor spice. Love can think […]...
30. The Argument Of His Book I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness. I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by […]...
31. In The Cool Of The Evening I thought I heard Him calling. Did you hear A sound, a little sound? My curious ear Is dinned with flying noises, and the tree Goes whisper, whisper, whisper silently Till all its whispers spread into the sound Of a dull roar. Lie closer to the ground, The shade is deep and He may pass […]...
32. The Nymph Complaining For The Death Of Her Faun The wanton Troopers riding by Have shot my Faun and it will dye. Ungentle men! They cannot thrive To kill thee. Thou neer didst alive Them any harm: alas nor cou’d Thy death yet do them any good. I’me sure I never wisht them ill; Nor do I for all this; nor will: But, if […]...
33. A Ballad of Death Kneel down, fair Love, and fill thyself with tears, Girdle thyself with sighing for a girth Upon the sides of mirth, Cover thy lips and eyelids, let thine ears Be filled with rumour of people sorrowing; Make thee soft raiment out of woven sighs Upon the flesh to cleave, Set pains therein and many a […]...
34. To Death O King of Terrors, whose unbounded Sway All that have Life, must certainly Obey; The King, the Priest, the Prophet, all are Thine, Nor wou’d ev’n God (in Flesh) thy Stroke decline. My Name is on thy Roll, and sure I must Encrease thy gloomy Kingdom in the Dust. My soul at this no Apprehension […]...
35. Cruisers As our mother the Frigate, bepainted and fine, Made play for her bully the Ship of the Line; So we, her bold daughters by iron and fire, Accost and decoy to our masters’ desire. Now, pray you, consider what toils we endure, Night-walking wet sea-lanes, a guard and a lure; Since half of our trade […]...
36. 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 […]...
37. By The Lake ACROSS the flat and the pastel snow Two people go. . . . ‘And do you remember When last we wandered this shore?’ . . . ‘Ah no! For it is cold-hearted December.’ ‘Dead, the leaves that like asses’s ears hung on the trees When last we wandered and squandered joy here; Now Midas your […]...
38. The Death-Bed He drowsed and was aware of silence heaped Round him, unshaken as the steadfast walls; Aqueous like floating rays of amber light, Soaring and quivering in the wings of sleep. Silence and safety; and his mortal shore Lipped by the inward, moonless waves of death. Someone was holding water to his mouth. He swallowed, unresisting; […]...
39. "Heavenly Father" take to thee “Heavenly Father” take to thee The supreme iniquity Fashioned by thy candid Hand In a moment contraband Though to trust us seems to us More respectful “We are Dust” We apologize to thee For thine own Duplicity...
40. 176. On the Death of John M'Leod, Esq SAD thy tale, thou idle page, And rueful thy alarms: Death tears the brother of her love From Isabella’s arms. Sweetly deckt with pearly dew The morning rose may blow; But cold successive noontide blasts May lay its beauties low. Fair on Isabella’s morn The sun propitious smil’d; But, long ere noon, succeeding clouds Succeeding […]...