Famous Short Death Poems. Short Death Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Death short poems
See also: Short Member Poems
Soul, take thy risk.
With Death to be
Were better than be not
Temptations still nest in it like basilisks.
Hang it up till the rings fall.
His death poem:
A bath when you're born,
a bath when you die,
has made me scared
of the old bat
that clings to the eaves
waiting to enter the house
Love -- is anterior to Life --
Posterior -- to Death --
Initial of Creation, and
The Exponent of Earth --
WHAT are those of the known, but to ascend and enter the Unknown?
And what are those of life, but for Death?
Triumph -- may be of several kinds --
There's Triumph in the Room
When that Old Imperator -- Death --
Witchcraft has not a Pedigree
'Tis early as our Breath
And mourners meet it going out
The moment of our death --
At my daughter's grave, thirty days
after her death:
these are the scarlet flowers
she liked to pick.
Lay this Laurel on the One
Too intrinsic for Renown --
Laurel -- veil your deathless tree --
Him you chasten, that is He!
The first We knew of Him was Death --
The second -- was -- Renown --
Except the first had justified
The second had not been.
HE who of Rankine sang, lies stiff and dead,
And a green grassy hillock hides his head;
Alas! alas! a devilish change indeed.
WHOE’ER thou art, O reader, know
That Death has murder’d Johnie;
An’ here his body lies fu’ low;
For saul he ne’er had ony.
BELOW thir stanes lie Jamie’s banes;
O Death, it’s my opinion,
Thou ne’er took such a bleth’rin bitch
Into thy dark dominion!
Lovely he looks, 'tis true, with the light of his torch now extinguished;
But remember that death is not aesthetic, my friends!
When the black breath blows,
And death's shadow grows,
Come Athelas! Come Athelas!
Life to the dying,
In the king's hand lying!
I am Day; I bring again
Life and glory, Love and pain:
Awake, arise! from death to death
Through me the World's tale quickeneth.
I am Night: I bring again
Hope of pleasure, rest from pain:
Thoughts unsaid 'twixt Life and Death
My fruitful silence quickeneth.
HERE Souter Hood in death does sleep;
To hell if he’s gane thither,
Satan, gie him thy gear to keep;
He’ll haud it weel thegither.
Death stands above me, whispering low
I know not what into my ear:
Of his strange language all I know
Is, there is not a word of fear.
WHEN Death’s dark stream I ferry o’er,
(A time that surely shall come,)
In Heav’n itself I’ll ask no more,
Than just a Highland welcome.
My heart was full of softening showers,
I used to swing like this for hours,
I did not care for war or death,
I was glad to draw my breath.
“STOP thief!” dame Nature call’d to Death,
As Willy drew his latest breath;
How shall I make a fool again?
My choicest model thou hast ta’en.
A Death blow is a Life blow to Some
Who till they died, did not alive become --
Who had they lived, had died but when
They died, Vitality begun.
tall poplars -- human beings of this earth!
black pounds of happiness -- you mirror them to death!
I saw you, sister, stand in that effulgence.