The Oxford Book of DeathDennis Joseph Enright Oxford University Press, 1983 - 351 psl. "Reading for this anthology," writes D.J. Enright, "I was moved to the thought that on no theme have writers shown themselves more lively." A survivor of Belsen voiced the same sentiment when, reflecting on the concentration camps, he wrote, "When in death we are in the midst of life." By turns poignant, tragic, comic, and inspiring, this anthology of thoughts about death ranges from ancient times to the present day--including almost 900 selections by poets, novelists, philosophers, scientists, and common people. Arranged under headings such as "Love," "War," "Last Words," and "Children," these selections show the varied, sometimes surprising, reactions of the dying and the bereaved to the final human act. |
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... tells us often and gives us notice that she cannot for long allow us that scrap of matter she has lent . . . she has ... tell thee , when I pass away , It is to tenfold life , to love , to peace , and raptures holy . Unseen descending ...
... tells us often and gives us notice that she cannot for long allow us that scrap of matter she has lent . . . she has ... tell thee , when I pass away , It is to tenfold life , to love , to peace , and raptures holy . Unseen descending ...
146 psl.
... Tell me , good dog , whose tomb you guard so well . ' " The Cynic's . ' ' True ; but who that Cynic tell . ' ' Diogenes , of fair Sinope's race . ' ' What ? He that in a tub was wont to dwell ? ' ' Yes : but the stars are now his ...
... Tell me , good dog , whose tomb you guard so well . ' " The Cynic's . ' ' True ; but who that Cynic tell . ' ' Diogenes , of fair Sinope's race . ' ' What ? He that in a tub was wont to dwell ? ' ' Yes : but the stars are now his ...
230 psl.
... Tell the crows we are not afraid ; We have died in the moors and cannot be buried . Crows , how can our bodies escape you ? ' The waters flowed deep And the rushes in the pool were dark . The riders fought and were slain ; Their horses ...
... Tell the crows we are not afraid ; We have died in the moors and cannot be buried . Crows , how can our bodies escape you ? ' The waters flowed deep And the rushes in the pool were dark . The riders fought and were slain ; Their horses ...
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asked believe better body Books born breath called child close comes Copyright dark dead death died door dying earth eternal existence eyes face fall fear feel fire friends funeral ghosts give gone grave hand happy head hear heard heart heaven hell hope hour human John keep kill kind leave less light live look Lord matter mean mind mother mourning moved nature never night once pain passed perhaps person pleasure Poems poor question reason remember Reprinted by permission rest round seemed seen sense sleep soon soul sound spirit stand suicide talk tell thee things Thomas thou thought trans turned walk wish young