... Death
When rising from the bed of death Overwhelmed with guilt and fear I see my Maker face to face O how shall I appear? If yet, while pardon may be found And mercy may be sought My heart with inward horror shrinks And trembles at the thought When Thou, O Lord, shall stand disclosed In majesty severe And sit in judgment on my soul O how shall I appear? But Thou hast told the troubled mind Who does her sins lament The timely tribute of her tears Shall endless woe prevent Then see the sorrow of my heart Ere yet it be too late And hear my Savior’s dying groans To give those sorrows weight Poem by Joseph Addison
Submitted by NecroGod — Jun 08, 2026
Whispers of heavenly death, murmur'd I hear Labial gossip of night - sibilant chorals Footsteps gently ascending - mystical breezes, wafted soft and low Ripples of unseen rivers--tides of a current, flowing, forever flowing (Or is it the plashing of tears? The measureless waters of human tears?) I see, just see, skyward, great cloud-masses Mournfully, slowly they roll Silently swelling and mixing With, at times, a half-dimm'd Sadden'd, far-off star Appearing and disappearing (Some parturition, rather--some solemn, immortal birth: 10 On the frontiers, to eyes impenetrable Some Soul is passing over ) Poem by Walt Whitman
Submitted by NecroGod — Jun 08, 2026
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