Poet: C. A. Lynch
My hope is set in Jesus the Lamb,
Though death may touch my feet, �
The fear of it shall ever forget,
As I am redeemed so sweet. �
For His blood, He has shed,
His life for me did give,
The sting of death no more bothers me,
As at heaven's gates, I�ll live.
More poems about death:
Christian Poems On Death
Funeral Poems To Say Goodbye
Poet: Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Leaves have their time to fall,
And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath,
And stars to set; but all,
Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death!
Day is for mortal care;
Eve, for glad meetings round the joyous hearth;
Night, for the dreams of sleep, the voice of prayer;
But all for thee, thou mightiest of the earth!
The banquet has its hour -
Its feverish hour - of mirth, and song, and wine;
There comes a day for grief's o'erwhelming power,
A time for softer tears; but all are thine.
Youth and the opening rose
May look like things too glorious for decay,
And smile at thee; but thou art not of those
That wait the ripened bloom to seize their prey.
Leaves have their time to fall,
And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath,
And stars to set; but all,
Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death!
We know when moons shall wane,
When summer birds from far shall cross the sea,
When autumn's hues shall tinge the golden grain;
But who shall teach us when to look for thee?
Is it when spring's first gale
Comes forth to whisper where the violets lie?
Is it when roses in our path grow pale?
They have one season; all are ours to die.
Thou art where billows foam;
Thou art where music melts upon the air;
Thou art around us in our peaceful home;
And the world calls us forth, and thou art there.
Thou art where friend meets friend,
Beneath the shadow of the elm to rest;
Thou art where foe meets foe, and trumpets rend
The skies, and swords beat down the princely crest.
Leaves have their time to fall,
And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath,
And stars to set; but all,
Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death!
Poet: C. A. Lynch
When death's door makes way,
Nevermore we'll have to roam.
Finally, our souls will meet,
Reunited no more to part.
Through the veil a life anew,
Abandon fear and care once through.
Heaven's light put on display,
Need not look back it's ok.
Our journey ends sweet toil done,
Death but a doorway home at last.
Comforting poems about death:
Sympathy Poems
Condolence Poems
Poems For Grief
Poet: Christina Rossetti
When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.
I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.
Poet: Unknown
I am home in Heaven, dear ones;
Oh, so happy and so bright!
There is perfect joy and beauty
In this everlasting light.
All the pain and suffering is over
Every restless tossing passed;
I am now at peace forever,
Safely home in Heaven at last.
Did you wonder I so calmly
Trod the valley of the shade?
Oh! but Jesus' love illumined
Every dark and fearful glade.
And he came Himself to meet me
In that way so hard to tread
And with Jesus' arm to lean on
Could I have one doubt or dread?
Then you must not grieve so sorely,
For I love you dearly still:
Try to look beyond earth's shadows,
Pray to trust our Father's will.
There is still work waiting for you,
So you must not idly stand;
Do it now, while life remaineth-
You shall rest in Jesus' land.
When that work is completed,
He will gently call you home;
Oh, the rapture of that meeting,
Oh, the joy to see you come!
Christian Poems
Poet: M. J. E. Crawford
The loved of earth - how they pass away!
Like the sunny smiles of a summer day,
They pass from earth; we see them fall
As a gem drops out from a coronal,
As blossoms torn from a healthy stem;
'Tis thus that we ever think of them.
We look with tears on a vacant place,
And sigh for the loss of a well-known face;
We murmur the names we loved, in vain -
They can not answer our call again.
They have passed away to their quiet rest;
Earth folded them in her silent breast.
The chill winds howl or warm rains weep,
Alike unheeded above their sleep;
And flowers may burst at the touch of spring,
And green leaves rustle, and wild birds sing;
But it matters not to the moldering dust
The green earth holdeth in faithful trust.
They pass, and their place must henceforth be
Vacant, save in the memory
Of those who loved them, - the faithful few,
Whose hearts, to the dead, are fond and true;
Whose love wanes not with the burdened breath,
And sinking pulse that tells of death;
That goes not out when the death-sealed eye
Is shut from the light of the glorious sky,
And the pleasant sounds they had loved to hear,
Touch not the nerves of the senseless ear.
The love of such hearts can not grow cold:
Their memories never wax dim or old:
They shrine the dead in a sacred urn;
They know they can never to them return;
But a holy trust to their love is given;
Gems snatched from earth are reset in heaven;
Flowers which died here in their beauty's prime,
Live there in endless summer-time;
And the dear ones, shrined in the trustful heart,
They shall meet again, and no more shall part.
Poet: Unknown
When I come to the end of the road,
and the sun has set for me.
I want no rites in a gloom-filled room.
Why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little�but not too long,
and not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that was once shared.
Miss me, but let me go.
For this is a journey we all must take,
and each must go alone.
It�s all a part of the master�s plan,
a step on the road to home.
When you are lonely and sick of heart,
go to the friends we know.
Bear your sorrow in good deeds. Miss me,
but let me go.
More poems to consider:
Heaven Poems
Poems To Mother In Heaven
Christmas In Heaven Poems
Poet: Barton
The dead are like the stars by day,
Withdrawn from mortal eye,
Yet holding unperceived their way
Through the unclouded sky.
By them, through holy hope and love,
We feel in hours serene,
Connected with a world above,
Immortal and unseen.
For Death his sacred seal hath set
On bright and bygone hours;
And they we mourn are with us yet.
Are more than ever ours; -
Ours by the pledge of love and faith,
By hopes of heaven on high;
By trust triumphant over death,
In immortality.
