Famous Death Poems

Famous Grief Poetry

Since the beginning of time, humans have lived their sometimes grand and sometimes ordinary lives, and have thereafter been laid to rest in countless graves and tombs. Death is something that, in a peculiar way, unites people everywhere, regardless of their social status, race, religious beliefs, or country of residence. This curious aspect of human nature inspired countless famous poets to contemplate, and write about, man's mortality. Famous poets like Emily Dickinson, Ella Wheeler Wilcox, and Mary Elizabeth Frye all had their own unique ways of viewing death and its effect on the living, views that still impact readers today.

25 Best Poems About Death by Famous Poets

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1. Death Is Nothing At All

This poem is often read at funerals. The author, Henry Scott-Holland (1847 - 1918), a priest at St. Paul's Cathedral of London, did not intend it as a poem, it was actually delivered as part of a sermon in 1910. The sermon, titled, "Death the King of Terrors" was preached while the body of King Edward VII was lying in state at Westminster.

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Top 100 1
- By Henry Scott-Holland
Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.

Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.

Everything remains exactly as it was.
I am I, and you are you,
and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.

Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.

Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident?

Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just round the corner.

All is well.
Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
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2. Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

"Do not stand at my grave and weep" is the first line and popular title of this bereavement poem of disputed authorship. This extremely famous poem has been read at countless funerals and public occasions. There are in existence many slightly different versions of the poem. Written in the 1930's, it was repopularized during the late 1970s thanks to a reading by John Wayne at a funeral. Mary Elizabeth Frye (1905-2004), a florist from Baltimore, MD claimed to have composed this poem in 1932 in a moment of inspiration to comfort a family friend who had just lost her mother and was unable to even visit her grave. However, the poem was only first formally published in the December 1934 issue of The Gypsy poetry magazine where it was titled "Immortality", with the author as Clare Harner (1909–1977) from Kansas. Several of Harner’s other poems were published and anthologized.
The poem below is the version published in 1934 in The Gypsy poetry magazine.

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Top 100 2
- By Clare Harner
Do not stand
By my grave, and weep.
I am not there,
I do not sleep-

Do not stand
By my grave, and weep.
I am not there,
I do not sleep-
I am the thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints in snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle, autumn rain.
As you awake with morning’s hush,
I am the swift up-flinging rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the day transcending soft night.
Do not stand
By my grave, and cry-
I am not there.
I did not die.

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3. A Child Of Mine

This famous poem by Edgar Albert Guest (1881-1959) has been bringing comfort to grief stricken parents for years. Guest himself suffered the loss of two of his children. A Child of Mine is a popular poem to read at funerals of children. To lose a child is one of life's most awful experiences. Focusing on the gift of your few years together can bring a measure of comfort.

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Top 100 5
- By Edgar A. Guest
I will lend you, for a little time,
A child of mine, He said.
For you to love the while he lives,
And mourn for when he's dead.

I will lend you, for a little time,
A child of mine, He said.
For you to love the while he lives,
And mourn for when he's dead.
It may be six or seven years,
Or twenty-two or three.
But will you, till I call him back,
Take care of him for Me?
He'll bring his charms to gladden you,
And should his stay be brief.
You'll have his lovely memories,
As solace for your grief.
I cannot promise he will stay,
Since all from earth return.
But there are lessons taught down there,
I want this child to learn.
I've looked the wide world over,
In search for teachers true.
And from the throngs that crowd life's lanes,
I have selected you.
Now will you give him all your love,
Nor think the labour vain.
Nor hate me when I come
To take him home again?
I fancied that I heard them say,
'Dear Lord, Thy will be done!'
For all the joys Thy child shall bring,
The risk of grief we'll run.
We'll shelter him with tenderness,
We'll love him while we may,
And for the happiness we've known,
Forever grateful stay.
But should the angels call for him,
Much sooner than we've planned.
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes,
And try to understand.
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4. But You Didn't

The excellent use of structure and repetition in this powerful poem contribute to the strong emotional reaction many people feel when reading this poem.
When a loved one doesn't return from war there will be many unresolved feelings. Don't wait to tell the important people in your life how you feel about them, do it right away. You never know if you'll get the chance again.

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Top 100 13
- By Merrill Glass
Analysis of Form and Technique

Remember the time you lent me your car and I dented it?
I thought you'd kill me...
But you didn't.

Remember the time you lent me your car and I dented it?
I thought you'd kill me...
But you didn't.

Remember the time I forgot to tell you the dance was
formal, and you came in jeans?
I thought you'd hate me...
But you didn't.

Remember the times I'd flirt with
other boys just to make you jealous, and
you were?
I thought you'd drop me...
But you didn't.

There were plenty of things you did to put up with me,
to keep me happy, to love me, and there are
so many things I wanted to tell
you when you returned from
Vietnam...
But you didn't.
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5. When Tomorrow Starts Without Me

When Tomorrow Starts Without Me is a heartfelt poem that aims to comfort and console those who will be left behind after their death. The poet expresses their love and concern for their loved ones, and reassures them that they will be with God in heaven. The poem uses simple and moving language to convey its message of hope and comfort, and the use of rhyme and repetition helps to reinforce the emotional impact of the poem. It serves as a reminder that death is a natural part of life, and that the memories of those we love will always be with us.

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Top 100 20
- By David Romano
When tomorrow starts without me
And I’m not here to see
If the sun should rise and find your eyes
All filled with tears for me

When tomorrow starts without me
And I’m not here to see
If the sun should rise and find your eyes
All filled with tears for me

I wish you wouldn’t cry
The way you did today
While thinking of the many things
We did not get to say

I know how much you love me
As much as I love you
Each time that you think of me
I know you will miss me too

When tomorrow starts with out me
Please try to understand
That an angel came and called my name
And took me by the hand

The angel said my place was ready
In heaven far above
And that I would have to leave behind
All those I dearly love

But when I walked through Heaven’s Gates
I felt so much at home
When God looked down and smiled at me
From his golden throne

He said this is eternity
And all I promised you
Today for life on earth is done
But here it starts a new

I promise no tomorrow
For today will always last
And since each day’s the exact same way
There is no longing for the past

So when tomorrow starts without me
Do not think we’re apart
For every time you think of me
Remember I’m right here in your heart
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6. When Great Trees Fall

Maya Angelou (1928-2014) uses symbolism and strong imagery in this poem to show a person’s response to loss. It doesn’t matter how strong or tough you are; when an influential person in your life passes away, you feel the effects. Although this poem does show that we experience regrets with things left unsaid, our lives are made better by that person's influence. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated on Maya Angelou’s birthday (April 4) in 1968, and his death deeply affected her. In fact, she stopped celebrating her own birthday for many years.

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Top 100 23
- By Maya Angelou
When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,

When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.

When great trees fall
in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses
eroded beyond fear.

When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with
a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
examines,
gnaws on kind words
unsaid,
promised walks
never taken.

Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
nurture,
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
radiance,
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of dark, cold
caves.

And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.
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7. Requiem

In this short and powerful poem, Robert Louis Stevenson's writes from the perspective of the deceased who calmly faces death with peace and contentment. The poem's message is one of comfort and acceptance, viewing death as a return home. It can serve as a touching tribute and funeral reading for families whose loved one have lived a full and complete life. The poem's use of imagery and metaphor reinforces the theme of death as a journey and offers comfort to those who are grieving.

Famous Poem
- By Robert Louis Stevenson
Under the wide and starry sky,
Dig the grave and let me lie.
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.

Under the wide and starry sky,
Dig the grave and let me lie.
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.

This be the verse you grave for me:
Here he lies where he longed to be;
Home is the sailor, home from sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.
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8. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

This very famous poem, a villanelle, by Dylan Thomas was written as Thomas' father lay on his deathbed. The message that Thomas was conveying to his father was his passionate desire that his father not take death "lying down." He is expressing the feeling that so many have felt as they watched a close friend, parent, or lover slip away. The message to his father is, "Don't Go! Fight! Death is an injustice! Show your passion for life, by not going gentle into that "good" night."

Famous Poem
- By Dylan Thomas
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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I like this poem. It reflects the general reaction of the majority of people not wanting their loved ones to go and if so at least they put up a fight, along with being poetically exquisite...

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9. Time Does Not Bring Relief (Sonnet II)

Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950) was considered one of the most skillful writers of sonnets during the 1900s. This poem is a Petrarchan sonnet that follows the rhyme scheme ABBA ABBA CDEECD. She writes of the pain experienced from the death of a loved one. Everything reminds her of him, and the passing of time does not ease the immense hurt she is experiencing, even though people said it would. Anyone who has lost someone they’ve loved will be able to relate to the raw emotion in this poem.

Famous Poem
- By Edna St. Vincent Millay
Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year’s bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.
There are a hundred places where I fear
To go,—so with his memory they brim.
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face
I say, “There is no memory of him here!”
And so stand stricken, so remembering him.
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10. Remember

Christina Rossetti was an English poet who lived from 1830-1894. In this poem, she wants her loved one to remember her after death. The word “remember” is shared five times, bringing attention to the importance of holding onto those memories, but the tone changes at the end. She then gives her loved one the permission to move on after her death. She hopes to be remembered, but she doesn’t want those memories to cause sadness to those she leaves behind. The form of Remember is a Petrarchan Sonnet.

Famous Poem
- By Christina Rossetti
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.
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In 2022, my 2-year-old cousin passed of covid, and I'm only 13, so it's hard to go through that, so this really hits home.

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11. We Are Seven

In this poem, Williams Wordsworth (1770-1850) addresses big questions about life and death. The speaker in the poem is talking with a little girl about her family. Two of the children in her family have died, but she continues to tell the man that she has seven members in her family. The man, however, tries to convince her that her family consists of only five now. She will not change her mind - for her brother and sister will always be a part of her family. This poem is written in the form of a ballad, which is generally narrative and follows the ABAB rhyme scheme.

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- By William Wordsworth
———A simple Child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?

———A simple Child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage Girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad:
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
—Her beauty made me glad.

“Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
How many may you be?”
“How many? Seven in all,” she said,
And wondering looked at me.

“And where are they? I pray you tell.”
She answered, “Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea.

“Two of us in the church-yard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the church-yard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother.”

“You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this may be.”

Then did the little Maid reply,
“Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the church-yard lie,
Beneath the church-yard tree.”

“You run about, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church-yard laid,
Then ye are only five.”

“Their graves are green, they may be seen,”
The little Maid replied,
“Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door,
And they are side by side.

“My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.

“And often after sun-set, Sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.

“The first that died was sister Jane;
In bed she moaning lay,
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.

“So in the church-yard she was laid;
And, when the grass was dry,
Together round her grave we played,
My brother John and I.

“And when the ground was white with snow,
And I could run and slide,
My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side.”

“How many are you, then,” said I,
“If they two are in heaven?”
Quick was the little Maid’s reply,
“O Master! we are seven.”

“But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in heaven!”
’Twas throwing words away; for still
The little Maid would have her will,
And said, “Nay, we are seven!”
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I read this poem many, many years ago in a children's poem book. When my youngest brother passed...I was broken. At his funeral, someone said, "There are only 5 of you now." I thought of this...

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12. A Happy Man

Edwin Arlington Robinson was an American poet and playwright who lived from 1869-1935. His work won him the Pulitzer Prize three times. In this poem, an old man reflects on the wonderful life he had with his family. He does not want that family to mourn over his death because his life was well-lived, and he had many years of enjoyment.

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- By Edwin Arlington Robinson
When these graven lines you see,
Traveller, do not pity me;
Though I be among the dead,
Let no mournful word be said.

When these graven lines you see,
Traveller, do not pity me;
Though I be among the dead,
Let no mournful word be said.

Children that I leave behind,
And their children, all were kind;
Near to them and to my wife,
I was happy all my life.

My three sons I married right,
And their sons I rocked at night;
Death nor sorrow never brought
Cause for one unhappy thought.

Now, and with no need of tears,
Here they leave me, full of years,--
Leave me to my quiet rest
In the region of the blest.
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13. Echo

Christina Rossetti lived from 1830-1894, and many of her poems had religious and melancholy tones. Both are represented in “Echo.” This poem captures the pain of losing a loved one and the longing to feel their presence in any form.

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- By Christina Rossetti
Come to me in the silence of the night;
Come in the speaking silence of a dream;
Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright
As sunlight on a stream;

Come to me in the silence of the night;
Come in the speaking silence of a dream;
Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright
As sunlight on a stream;
Come back in tears,
O memory, hope, love of finished years.

O dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet,
Whose wakening should have been in Paradise,
Where souls brimfull of love abide and meet;
Where thirsting longing eyes
Watch the slow door
That opening, letting in, lets out no more.

Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live
My very life again though cold in death:
Come back to me in dreams, that I may give
Pulse for pulse, breath for breath:
Speak low, lean low
As long ago, my love, how long ago.
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14. Song

In this poem, the narrator urges others not to do the typical things of remembrance when she passes away. Instead, the narrator encourages the reader to endure - just as grass does through droughts and famine. Christina Rossetti (1830-1894) uses alliteration throughout the poem: dead/dearest, sing/sad/songs, and green/grass. She struggled with her physical and mental health and experienced various bouts of depression. Through this poem, it's possible to see the process of working through difficult thoughts and emotions.

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- By Christina Rossetti
When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:

When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.

I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.
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Christina Rossetti was my main inspiration for taking up poetry in 1972. This poem was a standout to me. I have 3 self-published books of poetry that I put together. The third one, Poetry in...

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15. The Little White Hearse

When Ella Wheeler Wilcox was about 28 years of age, she married Robert Wilcox. They had one child, a son, who died shortly after birth. The Rhyme Scheme is ABAAB.

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- By Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Somebody's baby was buried to-day--
The empty white hearse from the grave rumbled back,
And the morning somehow seemed less smiling and gay
As I paused on the walk while it crossed on its way,

Somebody's baby was buried to-day--
The empty white hearse from the grave rumbled back,
And the morning somehow seemed less smiling and gay
As I paused on the walk while it crossed on its way,
And a shadow seemed drawn o'er the sun's golden track.

Somebody's baby was laid out to rest,
White as a snowdrop, and fair to behold,
And the soft little hands were crossed over the breast,
And those hands and the lips and the eyelids were pressed
With kisses as hot as the eyelids were cold.

Somebody saw it go out of her sight,
Under the coffin lid--out through the door;
Somebody finds only darkness and blight
All through the glory of summer-sun light;
Somebody's baby will waken no more.

Somebody's sorrow is making me weep:
I know not her name, but I echo her cry,
For the dearly bought baby she longed so to keep,
The baby that rode to its long-lasting sleep
In the little white hearse that went rumbling by.

I know not her name, but her sorrow I know;
While I paused on the crossing I lived it once more,
And back to my heart surged that river of woe
That but in the breast of a mother can flow;
For the little white hearse has been, too, at my door.
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One cannot relate to the loss of a child unless they have gone through it. One can only feel the same pain of another if they have. This poem beautifully speaks of and shares this pain.

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16. Dirge Without Music

A “dirge” is a mournful song, and in this mournful poem, Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950) shares the fact of life that everyone must die. It doesn’t matter who they are; the same fate comes to everyone. The repetition of “I am not resigned” shows that she does not approve of the reality that everyone must be placed into the ground.

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- By Edna St. Vincent Millay
I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.

Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains,—but the best is lost.

The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,—
They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
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17. O Captain! My Captain!

"O Captain! My Captain!" was written in honor of President Abraham Lincoln after his assassination in 1865, and was published in Whitman's anthology, Leaves of Grass. The poem is a metaphor to the Civil War and the captain of the ship refers to Abraham Lincoln.

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- By Walt Whitman
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths--for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
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I just like it. First heard the poem when in high school and recently the poem has risen from my deep memory to everyday recollection.

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18. Because I Could Not Stop For Death

A poem about death. Dickinson portrays death as her companion in the carriage. She passes her childhood - the school, to her grave. The poem makes heavy use of the literary device of personification, giving death human characteristics.

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- By Emily Dickinson
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

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 the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

Or rather, he passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.
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Yeah, I agree we don't stop to think that death will come and take us away even when the ones he has taken are staring right at us. My grandma passed away when I was little. I sobbed for hours.

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19. A Farewell

Alfred Tennyson (1809 - 1892) was Poet Laureate of the United Kingdom. In this beautiful poem, Alfred Lord Tennyson compares the short life span of Man to the seemingly eternal lifespan of nature. He expresses a longing to live on for eternity. However, nature lives on forever, while humans live for but a short time. The rivulet moves on to becomes a river and then it merges in to the sea where it stays for eternity. Interestingly, a great poet's work lives on even after their death.

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- By Alfred Tennyson
Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea,
Thy tribute wave deliver:
No more by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea,
Thy tribute wave deliver:
No more by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea,
A rivulet then a river:
Nowhere by thee my steps shall be
For ever and for ever.

But here will sigh thine alder tree
And here thine aspen shiver;
And here by thee will hum the bee,
For ever and for ever.

A thousand suns will stream on thee,
A thousand moons will quiver;
But not by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.
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20. Father And I

Ruby Archer's "Father and I" is a poignant reflection on the enduring bond between a daughter and her father. The poem evokes a sense of idyllic childhood, filled with shared adventures in nature. The speaker recalls a time of innocent joy, exploring the world hand-in-hand with her father. The loss of this companionship is keenly felt in the latter part of the poem, as the speaker's solitary wanderings in the woods are tinged with a profound sense of loneliness. The poem beautifully captures the bittersweet nature of memory and the enduring impact of a loving father-daughter relationship.

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- By Ruby Archer
Father and I were gypsies.―
We tried to lose our way
Among the woodland mystery,
When we'd a holiday.

Father and I were gypsies.―
We tried to lose our way
Among the woodland mystery,
When we'd a holiday.

My hand about his finger,
We followed brook and dell.
No need to voice our ecstasy―
The robins told it well.

His love I took for granted,
Owned every dear caress,
Nor dreame'd of how a little girl
Would feel when fatherless.

Now I, poor lonely gypsey,
Roam wood and hill and blue;
But no one loves them all with me
As Father used to do.
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1 - 20 of 25

Famous Death Poems

Famous Grief Poetry

25 Best Poems About Death by Famous Poets

1. Death Is Nothing At All

2. Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

3. A Child Of Mine

4. But You Didn't

5. When Tomorrow Starts Without Me

6. When Great Trees Fall

7. Requiem

8. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

9. Time Does Not Bring Relief (Sonnet II)

10. Remember

11. We Are Seven

12. A Happy Man

13. Echo

Christina Rossetti lived from 1830-1894, and many of her poems had religious and melancholy tones. Both are represented in “Echo.” This poem captures the pain of losing a loved one and the longing to feel their presence in any form.

14. Song

15. The Little White Hearse

When Ella Wheeler Wilcox was about 28 years of age, she married Robert Wilcox. They had one child, a son, who died shortly after birth. The Rhyme Scheme is ABAAB.

16. Dirge Without Music

17. O Captain! My Captain!

"O Captain! My Captain!" was written in honor of President Abraham Lincoln after his assassination in 1865, and was published in Whitman's anthology, Leaves of Grass. The poem is a metaphor to the Civil War and the captain of the ship refers to Abraham Lincoln.

18. Because I Could Not Stop For Death

A poem about death. Dickinson portrays death as her companion in the carriage. She passes her childhood - the school, to her grave. The poem makes heavy use of the literary device of personification, giving death human characteristics.

19. A Farewell

20. Father And I