Read the best Poems about death which are exploring the mystery and emotions the end of life. These poems can bring comfort, help people know the true meaning of life, or express the sadness of loss. Many poets have written about death in a way that it feels both soothing and sadness which allows the readers to process their own feelings about this universal experience.
In the poem, Death Be Not Proud written by John Donne, the poet challenges death to itself. He speaks directly to the death, he says that it should not be proud or feared because in the end, death is not as powerful as people think it is. John Donne believes that after the death, people will wake up to their eternal life which makes the death only a small moment of life.
Because I Could Not Stop for Death which is written by Emily Dickinson is presenting the death as a kind and gentle figure. In the poem, death is like a carriage driver whose responsibility is to take the speaker on a peaceful journey. The poem aims to reflect that how death is a part of life’s journey and it approaches the idea of passing away in a calm and beautiful way.
Death Be Not Proud Poem
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou are 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.
Mighty and dreadful, for thou are 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.
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Death Do Not Be Proud Poem
Let me die a youngman’s death
not a clean and inbetween
the sheets holywater death
not a famous-last-words
peaceful out of breath death
not a clean and inbetween
the sheets holywater death
not a famous-last-words
peaceful out of breath death
When I’m 73
and in constant good tumour
may I be mown down at dawn
by a bright red sports car
on my way home
from an allnight party
and in constant good tumour
may I be mown down at dawn
by a bright red sports car
on my way home
from an allnight party
Or when I’m 91
with silver hair
and sitting in a barber’s chair
may rival gangsters
with hamfisted tommyguns burst in
and give me a short back and insides
with silver hair
and sitting in a barber’s chair
may rival gangsters
with hamfisted tommyguns 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
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 curtains drawn by angels borne
‘what a nice way to go’ death
not a free from sin tiptoe in
candle wax and waning death
not a curtains drawn by angels borne
‘what a nice way to go’ death
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Poems About Death
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.
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.
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 sun 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.
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 sun 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.
I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public man, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public man, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.
When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,
Before high-piled books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starred face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love — then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,
Before high-piled books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starred face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love — then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
No longer mourn for me when I am dead
Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell
Give warning to the world that I am fled
From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell:
Nay, if you read this line, remember not
The hand that writ it; for I love you so
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot
If thinking on me then should make you woe.
O, if, I say, you look upon this verse
When I perhaps compounded am with clay,
Do not so much as my poor name rehearse.
But let your love even with my life decay,
Lest the wise world should look into your moan
And mock you with me after I am gone.
Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell
Give warning to the world that I am fled
From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell:
Nay, if you read this line, remember not
The hand that writ it; for I love you so
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot
If thinking on me then should make you woe.
O, if, I say, you look upon this verse
When I perhaps compounded am with clay,
Do not so much as my poor name rehearse.
But let your love even with my life decay,
Lest the wise world should look into your moan
And mock you with me after I am gone.
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Poems About Death of a Father
Remember how you taught me to swim,
holding me up until I began
to trust the water and myself?
I see you like a rain drop falling
into that same lake where you held me,
becoming part of it all.
Now I know
to trust the water and myself.
holding me up until I began
to trust the water and myself?
I see you like a rain drop falling
into that same lake where you held me,
becoming part of it all.
Now I know
to trust the water and myself.
Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He who can call today his own:
He who, secure within, can say,
Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
Be fair or foul or rain or shine
The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine.
Not Heaven itself upon the past has power,
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.
He who can call today his own:
He who, secure within, can say,
Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
Be fair or foul or rain or shine
The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine.
Not Heaven itself upon the past has power,
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.
You can shed tears that he is gone,
or you can smile because he has lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that he’ll come back,
or you can open your eyes and see all he’s left.
Your heart can be empty because you can’t see him,
or you can be full of the love you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember him only that he is gone,
or you can cherish his memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back.
Or you can do what he’d want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on.
or you can smile because he has lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that he’ll come back,
or you can open your eyes and see all he’s left.
Your heart can be empty because you can’t see him,
or you can be full of the love you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember him only that he is gone,
or you can cherish his memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back.
Or you can do what he’d want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on.
Old men forget!’ aye it may well be so.
But youth remembers all the magic spun
and woven in the warm fraternal glow
of your companionship. Your day is done?
It is not true. You know you left behind
a memory of courage which the years
can but increase. And we, your heirs, will find
that in good truth there’s nothing here for tears.
So be it. This your legacy to youth –
to make the best of all your days
and finally to recognise the truth
and you have shown us, silhouetted, stark
that though we love the sunlight’s summer rays
we need not fear the coming of the dark.
But youth remembers all the magic spun
and woven in the warm fraternal glow
of your companionship. Your day is done?
It is not true. You know you left behind
a memory of courage which the years
can but increase. And we, your heirs, will find
that in good truth there’s nothing here for tears.
So be it. This your legacy to youth –
to make the best of all your days
and finally to recognise the truth
and you have shown us, silhouetted, stark
that though we love the sunlight’s summer rays
we need not fear the coming of the dark.
That man is a success
who has lived well,
laughed often and loved much;
who has gained the respect of intelligent men and women
and the love of children;
who has filled his niche and accomplished his task;
who leaves the world better than he found it,
who has never lacked appreciation of Earth’s beauty
or failed to express it;
who looked for the best in others,
and gave the best he had.
who has lived well,
laughed often and loved much;
who has gained the respect of intelligent men and women
and the love of children;
who has filled his niche and accomplished his task;
who leaves the world better than he found it,
who has never lacked appreciation of Earth’s beauty
or failed to express it;
who looked for the best in others,
and gave the best he had.
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Short Poems About Death of a Loved One
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.
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.
He was so proud of his little girl.
It was her very first day of school.
He walked with her to school that day,
And she held his hand all the way.
They walked together quiet and sad,
A little girl and her loving dad.
Into the school her father led,
But he almost cried when she said,
“Daddy, Daddy, please don’t go.
Don’t leave me here all alone.
I’ll miss you if you go away,
And I might need you; can’t you stay?”
“Little Daughter, please don’t cry.
You’ll be okay, so dry your eyes.
You have our memories in your heart.
We’re together though we’re apart.
It was her very first day of school.
He walked with her to school that day,
And she held his hand all the way.
They walked together quiet and sad,
A little girl and her loving dad.
Into the school her father led,
But he almost cried when she said,
“Daddy, Daddy, please don’t go.
Don’t leave me here all alone.
I’ll miss you if you go away,
And I might need you; can’t you stay?”
“Little Daughter, please don’t cry.
You’ll be okay, so dry your eyes.
You have our memories in your heart.
We’re together though we’re apart.
He sat up front on her wedding day
And cried as his daughter walked away.
Later that night he watched her dance.
He sat there waiting for his chance.
The band started to play their song.
Father and daughter danced along.
She looked at him and saw a tear
Then leaned and whispered in his ear,
“Daddy, Daddy, I have to go.
I hate to leave you all alone.
I’ll miss you when I go away,
But if you need me then I’ll stay.”
“Little Daughter, I’ll be just fine.
I’ll love you always; you are mine.
I have our memories in my heart.
We’re together though we’re apart.”
And cried as his daughter walked away.
Later that night he watched her dance.
He sat there waiting for his chance.
The band started to play their song.
Father and daughter danced along.
She looked at him and saw a tear
Then leaned and whispered in his ear,
“Daddy, Daddy, I have to go.
I hate to leave you all alone.
I’ll miss you when I go away,
But if you need me then I’ll stay.”
“Little Daughter, I’ll be just fine.
I’ll love you always; you are mine.
I have our memories in my heart.
We’re together though we’re apart.”
As tears roll down my face,
I know you’re in a better place.
I close my eyes to see your face,
suddenly I feel a warm embrace.
With a smile so wide,
it brings tears to my eyes.
I try so hard not to cry;
all of my pain I cannot hide.
You always knew just what to say
to anyone having a bad day.
I don’t know if I will ever understand,
but it must be part of God’s plan.
As I look up toward the blue sky,
I imagine you spreading your wings to fly.
Be sure to give your Mom a sign
so she knows you are in Heaven
and everything is fine.
Tell everyone there I send my love
to all of the angels up above.
As the tears roll down my face,
I know you are in a better place.
I know you’re in a better place.
I close my eyes to see your face,
suddenly I feel a warm embrace.
With a smile so wide,
it brings tears to my eyes.
I try so hard not to cry;
all of my pain I cannot hide.
You always knew just what to say
to anyone having a bad day.
I don’t know if I will ever understand,
but it must be part of God’s plan.
As I look up toward the blue sky,
I imagine you spreading your wings to fly.
Be sure to give your Mom a sign
so she knows you are in Heaven
and everything is fine.
Tell everyone there I send my love
to all of the angels up above.
As the tears roll down my face,
I know you are in a better place.
When you lose someone, it can be hard to take
the pain that you feel when your heart has to break.
The memories you keep are all in your mind
as you search your soul for more to find.
The way their skin felt, the smell of their hair
as you keep thinking over and shedding a tear.
The years may pass, memories fade to grey,
but you’re getting no younger; you’ll see them someday.
Unconditional love is never forgotten.
Look deep in your heart; it is there at the bottom.
Alone in the dark, sometimes in fear,
voices from loved ones you’re hoping to hear.
More years pass, they soon fly by,
but you’re always looked upon from those in the sky.
Surrounded by clouds and pure white doves,
they listen and watch, sending you love.
Just remember one thing as you sit and you pray.
They will be there to greet you; you will see them someday.
the pain that you feel when your heart has to break.
The memories you keep are all in your mind
as you search your soul for more to find.
The way their skin felt, the smell of their hair
as you keep thinking over and shedding a tear.
The years may pass, memories fade to grey,
but you’re getting no younger; you’ll see them someday.
Unconditional love is never forgotten.
Look deep in your heart; it is there at the bottom.
Alone in the dark, sometimes in fear,
voices from loved ones you’re hoping to hear.
More years pass, they soon fly by,
but you’re always looked upon from those in the sky.
Surrounded by clouds and pure white doves,
they listen and watch, sending you love.
Just remember one thing as you sit and you pray.
They will be there to greet you; you will see them someday.
Read More: She Walks In Beauty by George Gordon Byron
Because I Could Not Stop For Death Poem
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 –
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 –
At Recess – in the Ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
We passed the Setting Sun –
Or rather – He passed us –
The Dews drew quivering and chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –
The Dews drew 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 – in the Ground –
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –
Since then – ’tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses’ Heads
Were toward Eternity –
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses’ Heads
Were toward Eternity –
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