So proud she was to die It made us all ashamed That what we cherished, so unknown To her desire seemed. So satisfied to go Where none of us should be, Immediately, that anguish stooped Almost to jealousy.
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.
My life closed twice before its close
Just girt me for the onset with Eternity, When breath blew back, And on the other side I heard recede the disappointed tide!
I never lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod.
I died for Beauty--but was scarce Adjusted in the Tomb When One who died for Truth, was lain In an adjoining Room
Death is a supple suitor, that wins at last. It is a stealthy wooing; conducted first by pallid innuendos and dim approach, but brave at last with bugles.
I could not stop for death and he did not stop for me.
A Toad, can die of Light - Death is the Common Right Of Toads and Men
That short, potential stir That each can make but once, That bustle so illustrious Tis almost consequence, Is the eclat of death.
The distance that the dead have gone Does not at first appear- Their coming back seems possible For many an ardent year.
We never know we go when we are going- We jest and shut the Door- Fate-following-behind us bolts it- And we accost no more-.
You'll find it-when you try to die- The Easier to let go- For recollecting such as went- You could not spare-you know.
Afraid? Of whom am I afraid? Not death. For who is he?
Dying is a wild night and a new road.
Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality.