Best Famous Ashes To Ashes Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Ashes To Ashes poems. This is a select list of the best famous Ashes To Ashes poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Ashes To Ashes poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of ashes to ashes poems.

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Poems are below...



Written by Carl Sandburg | Create an image from this poem

Bath

 A MAN saw the whole world as a grinning skull and
cross-bones.
The rose flesh of life shriveled from all faces.
Nothing counts.
Everything is a fake.
Dust to dust and ashes to ashes and then an old darkness and a useless silence.
So he saw it all.
Then he went to a Mischa Elman concert.
Two hours waves of sound beat on his eardrums.
Music washed something or other inside him.
Music broke down and rebuilt something or other in his head and heart.
He joined in five encores for the young Russian Jew with the fiddle.
When he got outside his heels hit the sidewalk a new way.
He was the same man in the same world as before.
Only there was a singing fire and a climb of roses everlastingly over the world he looked on.
Written by Dejan Stojanovic | Create an image from this poem

Faith

Dust to dust, 
Ashes to ashes.
Is that all?
Written by Paul Laurence Dunbar | Create an image from this poem

MORTALITY

Ashes to ashes, dust unto dust,
What of his loving, what of his lust?
What of his passion, what of his pain?
What of his poverty, what of his pride?
Earth, the great mother, has called him again:
Deeply he sleeps, the world's verdict defied.
Shall he be tried again? Shall he go free?
Who shall the court convene? Where shall it be?
No answer on the land, none from the sea.
Only we know that as he did, we must:
You with your theories, you with your trust,—
Ashes to ashes, dust unto dust!
Written by Andrew Barton Paterson | Create an image from this poem

Over The Range

 Little bush maiden, wondering-eyed, 
Playing alone in the creek-bed dry, 
In the small green flat on every side 
Walled in by the Moonbi ranges high; 
Tell me the tale of your lonely life 
'Mid the great grey forests that know no change.
"I never have left my home," she said, "I have never been over the Moonbi Range.
"Father and mother are long since dead, And I live with granny in yon wee place.
" "Where are your father and mother?" I said.
She puzzled awhile with thoughtful face, Then a light came into the shy brown face, And she smiled, for she thought the question strange On a thing so certain -- "When people die They go to the country over the range.
" "And what is this country like, my lass?" "There are blossoming trees and pretty flowers And shining creeks where the golden grass Is fresh and sweet from the summer showers.
They never need work, nor want, nor weep; No troubles can come their hearts to estrange.
Some summer night I shall fall asleep, And wake in the country over the range.
" Child, you are wise in your simple trust, For the wisest man knows no more than you.
Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust: Our views by a range are bounded too; But we know that God hath this gift in store, That, when we come to the final change, We shall meet with our loved ones gone before To the beautiful country over the range.