On The University Carrier Who Sickn'd In The Time Of His Vacancy, Being Forbid To Go To London, By Reason Of The Plague
Here lies old Hobson, Death hath broke his girt,
And here alas, hath laid him in the dirt,
Or els the ways being foul, twenty to one,
He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown.
'Twas such a shifter, that if truth were known,
Death was half glad when he had got him down;
For he had any time this ten yeers full,
Dodg'd with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull.
And surely, Death could never have prevail'd,
Had not his weekly cours of carriage fail'd;
But lately finding him so long at home,
And thinking now his journeys end was come,
And that he had tane up his latest Inne,
In the kind office of a Chamberlin
Shew'd him his room where he must lodge that night,
Pull'd off his Boots, and took away the light:
If any ask for him, it shall be sed,
Hobson has supt, and 's newly gon to bed.
poem by John Milton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
On the University Carrier
Who sickened in the time of his Vacancy, being forbid to go to London by reason of the Plague.
Here lies old Hobson. Death hath broke his girt,
And here, alas! hath laid him in the dirt;
Or else, the ways being foul, twenty to one
He’s here stuck in a slough, and overthrown.
’T was such a shifter that, if truth were known,
Death was half glad when he had got him down;
For he had any time this ten years full
Dodged with him betwixt Cambridge and The Bull.
And surely Death could never have prevailed,
Had not his weekly course of carriage failed;
But lately, finding him so long at home,
And thinking now his journey’s end was come,
And that he had ta’en up his latest Inn,
In the kind office of a Chamberlin
Showed him his room where he must lodge that night,
Pulled off his boots, and took away the light.
If any ask for him, it shall be said,
“Hobson has supped, and ’s newly gone to bed.”
poem by John Milton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It's Death Again
It's Death again - He's always there -
Watching, waiting - e'er the stare!
Every time I look behind
Or reach to pull the window blind,
I catch a glimpse of grubby hood -
A little clue to where he stood;
The glint of light that caught the scythe.
Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…
But O! no use, he'll never go.
The adamant phantom; don't you know
He will but wait until it's time
For me to hear His fateful chime? -
The toll that claims my destiny,
To Hail: 'You're next, it has to be…'
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
The Reign of Death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Disingenuousness
Here lies another box for nature,
Carbon ready;
Black to eyes down here,
Where death is at its job.
Up there you’ll hear a rhythmic sob
Or two from living yet-to-dies –
A humming lacrimoso –
It all but cleans the eyes:
Forget it –
The dismal show of grief –
Life is only chemistry –
Our stay is only brief.
It’s we who hype it up!
Diaphragms jerk again;
The jet monotone of hearses
Feeds the disingenuousness
Of undertakers –
They seem to stare at something up ahead –
For them, it’s in the blood,
To taxi off the dead.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The March of Death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Go Away, Death!
Go away, Death!
You have come too soon.
To sunshine and song I but just awaken,
And the dew on my heart is undried and unshaken;
Come back at noon.
Go away, Death!
What a short reprieve!
The mists of the morning have vanished, I roam
Through a world bright with wonder, and feel it my home;
Come back at eve.
Go away, Death!
See, it still is light.
Over earth broods a quiet more blissful than glee,
And the beauty of sadness lies low on the sea;
Come back at night.
Come to me, Death!
I no more would stay.
The night-owl hath silenced the linnet and lark,
And the wailing of wisdom sounds sad in the dark;
Take me away.
poem by Alfred Austin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Death and I
When death comes
I’ll need not love –
Consumed,
No wreath or dove
Could offer me salvation,
Not when I’m no more.
A weathered stone will bear my name –
Identity of once a being
Living out existence in
A world of risk, and never seeing
Sense of why we’re here.
My genes will die away thro’ child –
Hue of eyes and hair, the way of thought,
Will quickly dim with generation –
Bow to future dominance –
Memories of provenance
Resigned to curious few.
When death comes
I’ll need not grace
Below; no grieving face
Will call my resurrection,
Not when I’m at ground –
Death and I so bound.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
D eath Crawl
death death death death death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Death Is Death, Dissolution Of All
All over this mammoth Earth,
There is nothing like death;
All over this mammoth Earth,
Nothing escapes death
Except that strange death itself.
What is this death,
Perchance, death itself knows not;
Whence it springs,
Where are its wings,
Fancied none in these million years.
It’s the live black hole
In dance along the time’s scale;
Nothing escapes its rapacious field
And nothing ever breaks out of its shield,
Death is death, dissolution of all.
Is death a beginning, none ever ever knows,
No mysteries as mysterious as death ever is;
No light or shade nor talent prised it,
No voyages ever came back out of its womb,
Nor light-years ever scaled the depth of death.
Death brings down all to the Nature’s womb,
To the Natures pristine pure form;
No rise or fall nor glory or shame,
‘Neath the mysterious death, all are same;
Indeed, the supreme equalizer is death.
Death is true peace, death is ultimate pain,
Death is finding peace in the folds of pain;
Death robs light and spreads dark night
And numbs soul to the inevitable truth, that
Born out of night, but we are part of that night.
poem by Praveen Kumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Death, My Friend
Death, my friend - so good to see you!
Stand aloft and view my soul!
I have to say you’re looking frightful -
Bony chum, you affable ghoul.
Death, my friend, so charmed I’m sure!
State your case and tell me straight -
Am I worthy of reward, so
Venture I to Heaven’s Gate?
Death, my friend, a new acquaintance!
You're always welcome in my home -
Though the stare from empty sockets
Indicates to Hell we roam!
Death, my friend - my bosom buddy.
My! your finger points at me!
Be you tired of my frivolity?
Aha, I see - Oblivion, we!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Death death death death death death
Death death death death death death
Death death death death death death
Death death death death death death
Death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Death, Inevitable Death
Death, inevitable Death.
So now You come to show Your world,
Hence the blackened cloak – unfurled.
And peering down upon my form
– Bereft of pity – Your eyes of storm.
Death, inexorable Death.
‘When? ’ The only question out of Thee.
My dream retorts 'But ne’er for me! ’
But now awake, I bid you so –
My giving tears cry ‘Where to go? ’
Death, adamant Death.
You cast Your spell and guide me 'way,
For life and I have had our day.
And what of me? I prey You, tell!
Be glorious in Heaven or gnarled in Hell?
Death, ineluctable Death.
Oh wiry ghoul, I'm here to follow –
I leave my body grey and shallow.
‘Come! ’ You bid in thund’ring tones,
‘Beg farewell to shattered bones.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Death
Death death
Death death death
Death death death death
Death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death
Death death death death
Death death death
Death death
Death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Death, Death And Death
I see the death everyday
Death in relations
Death in religion and faith
Death of man in man
Everyday, everywhere, every moment
Death, death and death.
I experience the death around me
Millions and billions of ceremonies
The smoke on maps of mankind
Death in temple and streets
Death in clubs and parties
Death, death and death.
I foresee the death of humanity
Harassment, discrimination and hatred
Death in purity and sacredness
Death in broken mirrors and home
Death in king, death in masses
Death, death and death.
poem by Abhimanyu Kumar.s
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Fresh Endeavour
So now I've taken leave of life,
I thought you'd like to know, I still
Possess a mind in love, oh wife;
A soulful eye to catch a show of
Silent beauty – ever yours;
An ear to pick the metaphors
Of tonal dance in words you say,
Grasp a thought in verse you pray
Inside your head, bemused of mind,
Softly mournful, intertwined with
Understanding tears.
I'll drift a whisper o'er to you
To tell that I am quietly calm;
Keeping time till your adieu
To flesh, upon the carol of a
Psalm of consummation. Now!
A fresh endeavour – we're forever
One together, resting yonder,
Cross our open plane of blue.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death
death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On The Death Of Sir Tho: Peltham
Meerly for man's death to mourne
Were to repine that man was borne.
When weake old age doth fall asleepe
Twere foule ingratitude to weepe:
Those threads alone should pull out tears
Whose sodayne cracke breaks off some years.
Heere tis not so: full distance heere
Sunders the cradle from the beere.
A fellow-traveller he hath beene
So long with Time: so worne to skinne,
That were hee not just now bereft,
His Body first his soule had left,
Threescore and tenne is Nature's date,
Our journey when wee come in late.
Beyond that time the overplus
Was granted not to him, but us.
For his own sake the Sun nere stood,
But only for the peoples good.
Even so his breath held out by aire
Which poore men uttered in theyr prayer:
And as his goods were lent to give,
So were his dayes that they might live,
Soe ten years more to him were told
Enough to make another olde.
O that Death would still doe soe;
Or else on good men would bestow
That wast of years which unthrifts fling
Away by theyr distempering,
That some might thrive by this decay
As well as that of land and clay.
'Twas now well done: no cause to moane
On such a seasonable stone.
Where death is but an Host, we sinne
Not bidding welcome to his Inne.
Sleepe, sleepe, thy rest, good man, embrace;
Sleepe, sleepe, th' ast trode a weary race.
poem by William Strode
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Love Eternal
In death there is beauty
We will sleep like angels
With the tranquility of innocence
Death will not conquer our love
As we are bounded by memories,
And our love will flourish
Death is our sadness
For I will long for your flesh,
But our journeys will not be far apart
Death is our sanctuary
From the woes of life;
In death we will find peace
Death brings us unwavering hope
For the time of resurrection;
In death we will find love eternal.
poem by Bernice W. Wilson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
That's Death
There are bodies laying on the floor
Blood seeping from the room
Covering their wounds
But that’s death
A sound of consequence
Echoing through existence
Finding a deaf ear
But that’s death
People walk away to their lives
Leaving those behind
Forgetting us
But that’s death
We walk the crowded streets
Looking for our salvation
Never getting redemption
But that’s death
A sad existence of life
Once lived vibrantly
Forgotten the same
But that’s death
Twenty-Seven years lived strong
Fighting for what is right
Dying for what is true
But that’s death
poem by C.R. Ebowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When Death
(Yet another early work - one month shy of 17)
When death is coming up your walk,
And you're unaware of his escence,
You invite him in, and have a talk
Which reeks of omniprescence
When death is sitting in your home
And you're enchanted by his smile
He's been to places like Paris and Rome,
You ask him to stay awhile
When death is leaning very near,
And your house is all aglow,
He whispers something in your ear,
You know it's time to go
When death is touching you all around
And he plays within your head,
You cannot see, nor hear a sound,
You know you'll soon be dead
When death becomes a part of you,
In the still of night
There is nothing you can do,
Until you see the light
When death takes you to the place
Where you'll see the light,
You will not find a familiar face,
But you'll be too tired to fight
When death begins to say good bye
And says you're on your own
You watch the light, and then you sigh -
You see how bright it's grown
When death gets up, and walks through the light
(Which feels like half-melted ice)
You follow him through to discover your plight
And find you're in paradise
poem by Michael Troy Buffo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sin (II)
O that I could a sin once see!
We paint the devil foul, yet he
Hath some good in him, all agree.
Sin is flat opposite to th' Almighty, seeing
It wants the good of virtue, and of being.
But God more care of us hath had:
If apparitions make us sad,
By sight of sin we should grow mad.
Yet as in sleep we see foul death, and live:
So devils are our sins in perspective.
poem by George Herbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Punishment
There never really was a place of sanctity
For you, the mortal entity.
You thought you had prosperity,
The while you thrived and were.
Angels don't exist, you see.
You lived without a guarantee
Atop your brutal Earth.
Still, you had a birth.
And whither now, your crying whim -?
Answered by a tearing limb-?
Are you contrite; your valour slim?
And will He care...?
'Tis down to Him.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter,2009
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Night Close
Under night close
Death rose to greet me.
I turned; looked back,
Though nothing beckoned -
No one cried or mourned.
Scorned by all
- My fellow race -
I shed the byes to empty space, then
Gazed upon the stony face
Of Death anon, and
So chose our treaty.
Line of Death
death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Legend Withers
I do not display, but am.
Where the heart lies.
In truth. I try to discover the centre
of sorrow and bliss.
Life has not given
me full text of death.
The shadows are larger than reals.
You will not remember me
in endless night.
I am going on a long journey
to find out what is death of a name
the death of a prayer,
and ending of self.
The naked helices of truth are blazing.
Death of a dawn
some thing dies in me.
I don’t grieve.
The frozen pain melts,
legend withers.
The shadow is liberated from image.
The sadness leaves the fingerprints on my face.
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Met Death
I was waiting, watching one day
When Death came along, looking
As if there was something he wanted to say
His hair was as black as the sky at night
And in the wind it blew like smoke
He had come a long way in his worn black cloak
So I invited him in and I did say
If you’d like to you can stay
But Death said:
“I’m only passing through
For the clock’s hands they say
They are ticking the seconds of my life away”
And I answered,
Thinking I’d misunderstood
As Death’s dark black eye gleamed under his dark black hood
“If your Death, how can you die? ”
You see, Death didn’t seem the kind to lie.
And Death wasn’t phased at all,
“No longer Death I may become,
Or so says He if I don’t complete
The most horrible, horrible, feat.
“The most horrible feat? ”
I had to say
Could it be so horrible,
That Death couldn’t say?
“Death, ” said Death, “is the horrible feat.”
And then he faded away, like smoke into the blue, blue sky
But I think, before he left, I might have seen him cry.
I had never in my life, seen Death again
Until the night I stood outside in the rain
When he said, “I’m sorry miss, but this is good bye.”
And I found out what it’s like to die.
So we went, and parted, to each our own way,
But one more time I want to heard Death say, “I’m sorry miss, -“
Marking the end of the day
poem by Jinny Tikanus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Phillis 01
MY Phillis hath the morning sun
At first to look upon her;
And Phillis hath morn-waking birds
Her risings still to honour.
My Phillis hath prime-feather'd flowers,
That smile when she treads on them;
And Phillis hath a gallant flock,
That leaps since she doth own them.
But Phillis hath too hard a heart,
Alas that she should have it!
It yields no mercy to desert,
Nor grace to those that crave it.
poem by Thomas Lodge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!