20 Poems About Death To Comfort Someone

 

Short And Beautiful Poems About Death To Comfort Someone

 

“If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life. For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.”

– Khalil Gibran

Short Poems About Death To Comfort Someone

Short And Beautiful Poems About Death To Comfort Someone: Like birth, death is also the undeniable reality of life. However, unlike birth, death is normally considered a highly painful experience almost by all people. But, we human beings could do nothing about it and everyone is forced to bear the deep sorrow that shakes our whole existence ruthlessly.

We know the feeling of losing a beloved one could not be expressed in words but it’s also true that words have the potential to comfort a heartbroken soul. So today we have collected some very inspiring and thought-provoking poems about death and dying that will surely help to relax the grief-stricken souls.

Many of these poems about death share the fact of life that everyone must die. It doesn’t matter who they are; the same fate comes to everyone. However, some beautiful poems also remind us not to think of it as a final goodbye. Instead, these poems encourage us to cherish the fond memories we have of our loved ones so as to keep them alive within us.

 

1. Death Is Nothing At All Poem By Henry Scott-Holland

This is one of the famous death poems which is often read at funerals. Its author, Henry Scott-Holland (1847–1918) was a priest at St. Paul’s Cathedral of London. He 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.

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 around 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!

2. Peace My Heart Poem By Rabindranath Tagore

Peace, my heart, let the time for the parting be sweet.
Let it not be a death but completeness.
Let love melt into memory and pain into songs.
Let the flight through the sky end in the folding of the wings over the nest.
Let the last touch of your hands be gentle like the flower of the night.
Stand still, O Beautiful End, for a moment, and say your last words in silence.
I bow to you and hold up my lamp to light your way.

3. Death Is No Joke Poem By Hebert Logerie

Death is no joke, nobody can laugh at it
Death is not a he or a she, death is an it
Death is different, death comes like a flash
Death strikes. Death is the fastest thing around
I hate death. Death and friends crash
All types of parties. Death comes with no sound
Death strikes like a misguided or a lost laser
I hate death. Death destroys everything
All the time. Death strikes helicopter
Airplane, car, tank, house, building, and ring

I hate death. I am not afraid of death
Death brings a lot of pain and suffering
Death is a thief. Death always finds the depth
Of the soul, the core of the heart
To spread grief, pain, suffering, and hurt
I hate death. I wish someone could kill death
It is sad there is too much death, too many thefts
I am out words. You and I are at the top of the cliffs.

4. A Dream Of Death Poem By William Butler Yeats

I Dreamed that one had died in a strange place
Near no accustomed hand,
And they had nailed the boards above her face,
The peasants of that land,
Wondering to lay her in that solitude,
And raised above her mound
A cross they had made out of two bits of wood,
And planted cypress round;
And left her to the indifferent stars above
Until I carved these words:
She was more beautiful than thy first love,
But now lies under boards.

 

Famous Poems About Death That Will Calm Gloomy Soul

5. A Farewell Poem By Alfred Lord Tennyson

Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892) was Poet Laureate of the United Kingdom. In this beautiful poem, Tennyson compares the short life span of man to the seemingly eternal lifespan of nature. The poet 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 become a river and then it merges into the sea where it stays for eternity.

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.

6. Gone From My Sight Poem By Henry Van Dyke

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says, “There, she is gone.”

Gone where?

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me – not in her.

And, just at the moment when someone says, “There, she is gone,”
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices
ready to take up the glad shout, “Here she comes!”

And that is dying…”

7. Let Me Die A Youngman’s Death Poem By Roger McGough

Let me die a youngman’s death
not a clean and in between
the sheets holywater death
not a famous-last-words
peaceful out of breath death

When I’m 73
and in constant good tumor
may I be mown down at dawn
by a bright red sports car

on my way home
from an all night party

Or when I’m 91
with silver hair
and sitting in a barber’s chair
may rival gangsters
with hamfisted tommy guns burst in
and give me a short back and insides

Or when I’m 104
and banned from the Cavern
may my mistress
catching me in bed with her daughter
and fearing for her son
cut me up into little pieces
and throw away every piece but one

Let me die a youngman’s death
not a free from sin tiptoe in
candle wax and waning death
not a curtain drawn by angels borne
‘what a nice way to go’ death.

 

Short Poems About Death Of Loved Ones With Images

8. And Death Shall Have No Dominion Poem By Dylan Thomas

Dylan Marlais Thomas (1914–1953) was a Welsh poet and writer who wrote many famous poems. He became widely popular in his lifetime and remained so after his premature death in New York City. And ‘Death Shall Have No Dominion’ is a magical look at the ways in which death controls mankind and the fact at even though it is powerful, it cannot control everything. Each verse starts and ends with the phrase “And death shall have no dominion.” Even as Dylan brings us face to face with the physical reality of death, he disarms it.

And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.
Under the windings of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan’t crack;
And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashore;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Though they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.

9. Farewell Poem By Anne Bronte

Farewell to thee! but not farewell
To all my fondest thoughts of thee:
Within my heart they still shall dwell;
And they shall cheer and comfort me.

O, beautiful, and full of grace!
If thou hadst never met mine eye,
I had not dreamed a living face
Could fancied charms so far outvie.

If I may ne’er behold again
That form and face so dear to me,
Nor hear thy voice, still would I fain
Preserve, for aye, their memory.

That voice, the magic of whose tone
Can wake an echo in my breast,
Creating feelings that, alone,
Can make my tranced spirit blest.

That laughing eye, whose sunny beam
My memory would not cherish less; —
And oh, that smile! whose joyous gleam
Nor mortal language can express.

Adieu, but let me cherish, still,
The hope with which I cannot part.
Contempt may wound, and coldness chill,
But still it lingers in my heart.

And who can tell but Heaven, at last,
May answer all my thousand prayers,
And bid the future pay the past
With joy for anguish, smiles for tears?

10. In Flanders Fields Poem By John Mccrae

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

11. Always There Poem By Emma Marie Etwell

When you remember me,
Please do not weep.
My body may not be there.
It has chosen to sleep.
I’m not that far away.
My soul lives on,
Looking down, watching over
You and everyone.
And when you feel sad
And life seems so blue,
Just remember
That my spirit has its arms around you.
And on those special days,
Times that you wish I could see,
That cool breeze flowing past you…
Well, that will be me,
So don’t be sad.
Have no fear.
God has taken me under his wing,
But I’ll always be near.
I still watch you
Every minute, every day.
My love and soul are with you,
And that’s where they will stay.

 

Best Poems About Death To Read At The Funeral Of Someone

12. Dirge Without Music Poem By Edna St. Vincent Millay

Edna St. Vincent Millay was a famous American lyrical poet and playwright. She won poetry prizes from an early age, including the Pulitzer Prize in 1923. Her mournful poem “Dirge without Music” is about the inevitability of death and Millay’s unwillingness to approve of death. The title essentially means it is a poem about death… Everyone will go easily and gently into the dirt without obstruction because nothing can prevent death.

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.

13. Nothing But Death Poem By Pablo Neruda

There are cemeteries that are lonely,
graves full of bones that do not make a sound,
the heart moving through a tunnel,
in it darkness, darkness, darkness,
like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves,
as though we were drowning inside our hearts,
as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul.

And there are corpses,
feet made of cold and sticky clay,

death is inside the bones,
like a barking where there are no dogs,
coming out from bells somewhere, from graves somewhere,
growing in the damp air like tears of rain.

Sometimes I see alone
coffins under sail,
embarking with the pale dead, with women that have dead hair,
with bakers who are as white as angels,
and pensive young girls married to notary publics,

caskets sailing up the vertical river of the dead,
the river of dark purple,
moving upstream with sails filled out by the sound of death,
filled by the sound of death which is silence.

Death arrives among all that sound
like a shoe with no foot in it, like a suit with no man in it,
comes and knocks, using a ring with no stone in it, with no
finger in it,
comes and shouts with no mouth, with no tongue, with no
throat.
Nevertheless its steps can be heard
and its clothing makes a hushed sound, like a tree.

I’m not sure, I understand only a little, I can hardly see,
but it seems to me that its singing has the color of damp violets,
of violets that are at home in the earth,
because the face of death is green,
and the look death gives is green,
with the penetrating dampness of a violet leaf
and the somber color of embittered winter.

But death also goes through the world dressed as a broom,
lapping the floor, looking for dead bodies,
death is inside the broom,
the broom is the tongue of death looking for corpses,
it is the needle of death looking for thread.

Death is inside the folding cots:
it spends its life sleeping on the slow mattresses,
in the black blankets, and suddenly breathes out:
it blows out a mournful sound that swells the sheets,
and the beds go sailing toward a port
where death is waiting, dressed like an admiral.

14. Death Shall Die Poem By Qiniso Mogale

Someday death shall die
A time shall come when death shall die
Sometime in the near future death shall die
Soon and very soon death shall die
Death is knocking on death’s door
Death draws nigh for death
Death draws near to death
Death beckons for death.

Death shall die

Those in Christ shall live in eternal peace
But death shall never rest in peace
Death shall cease to exist
Death shall collapse to death
Death shall freeze to death
Most assuredly death shall burn to death
Death shall die of hunger because it shall
no longer be allowed to murder.

Death shall die

Death shall burn in the lake of fire
Death shall no longer have power
Death shall no longer be feared
Death shall no longer be dreaded
Death shall forever be denounced
Death shall forever be banished
The death of death shall leave Satan hopeless and hapless
The death of death shall shall leave Satan
toothless.

 

Sad Poems About Death By Some Illustrious Authors

15. A Happy Man Poem By Edwin Arlington Robinson

Edwin Arlington Robinson (1869-1935) was an American poet and playwright. He won Pulitzer Prize three times and is still remembered for his notable works. In this poem, an old man reflects on the amazing life he spent with his family. As his life was well-lived and he had many years of enjoyment, he does not want that his family grieves over his death.

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.

16. Death Poem By Donald Revell

Death calls my dog by the wrong name.
A little man when I was small, Death grew
Beside me, always taller, but always
Confused as I have almost never been.
Confusion, like the heart, gets left behind
Early by a boy, abandoned the very moment
Futurity with her bare arms comes a-waltzing
Down the fire escapes to take his hand.

“Death,” I said, “if your eyes were green
I would eat them.”

For what are days but the furnace of an eye?
If I could strip a sunflower bare to its bare soul,
I would rebuild it:
Green inside of green, ringed round by green.
There’d be nothing but new flowers anymore.
Absolute Christmas.

“Death,” I said, “I know someone, a woman,
Who sank her teeth into the moon.”

For what are space and time but the inventions
Of sorrowing men? The soul goes faster than light.
Eating the moon alive, it leaves space and time behind.
The soul is forgiveness because it knows forgiveness.
And the knowledge is whirligig.
Whirligig taught me to live outwardly.
Shoe shop. . . pizza parlor. . . surgical appliances. . .
All left behind me with the hooey.
My soul is my home.
An old star hounded by old starlight.

“Death, I ask you, whose only story
Is the end of the story, right from the start,
How is it I remember everything
That never happened and almost nothing that did?
Was I ever born?”

I think of the suicides, all of them thriving,
Many of them painting beautiful pictures.
I think of boys and girls murdered
In their first beauty, now with children of their own.
And I have a church in my mind, set cruelly ablaze,
And then the explosion of happy souls
Into the greeny, frozen Christmas Eve air:
Another good Christmas, a white choir.

Beside each other still,
My Death and I are a magical hermit.
Dear Mother, I miss you.
Dear reader, your eyes are now green,
Green as they used to be, before I was born.

17. Death, Be Not Proud Poem By John Donne

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

 

Most Famous Poems About Death That Will Inspire You

18. Because I Could Not Stop For Death Poem By Emily Dickinson

‘Because I could not stop for death’ is one of the most famous poems about death which is often recited at funerals. This poem was written by the famous American poetess Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) in her middle age. Dickinson portrays death as her companion in the carriage. The poem makes heavy use of the literary device of personification, giving death human characteristics.

I have loved this poem since the time I first read it. With every loved one’s death, the first two lines of this famous poem always seem to come to my mind. I love the concept of eternity, death, and life woven into a voyage of three wanderers. Interestingly, a great poet’s work lives on even after their 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 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.

19. I Felt An Angel Poem By An Anonymous Author

I felt an angel near today, though one I could not see
I felt an angel oh so close, sent to comfort me

I felt an angel’s kiss, soft upon my cheek
And oh, without a single word of caring did it speak

I felt an angel’s loving touch, soft upon my heart
And with that touch, I felt the pain and hurt within depart

I felt an angel’s tepid tears, fall softly next to mine
And knew that as those tears did dry a new day would be mine

I felt an angel’s silken wings enfold me with pure love
And felt a strength within me grow, a strength sent from above

I felt an angel oh so close, though one I could not see
I felt an angel near today, sent to comfort me.

20. Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep Poem By Mary Elizabeth

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

We hope you have liked these beautiful poems about Death. All these Short Poems about Death can be read in moments of need or used on mementos and bereavement cards. The poems are so beautiful that the relatives and friends of deceased ones will get some peace after reading these deep poems during their sorrow!

Read More Poems On Death: Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night Poem By Dylan Thomas

“From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.”

– Edvard Munch

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