A sad poem is a narration of losses, from personal to tangible. In this sad poetry post, we present 2 sad poems with various moods from various spheres of life from two prolific poets!
John Keats and Emily Dickinson: Sad Poems
Both Keats and Emily are considered as masters when it comes to poetry. Their deep insight into the nature of human beings is really commendable. Therefore, we bring two poems about sadness that will surely captivate your attention.
Also read: Hard Times to Live: A Sad Poem Grip
1. Ode on Melancholy
By John Keats
No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist
Wolf’s-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss’d
By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;
Make not your rosary of yew-berries,
Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be
Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl
A partner in your sorrow’s mysteries;
For shade to shade will come too drowsily,
And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.
But when the melancholy fit shall fall
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,
Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
Or on the wealth of globed peonies;
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,
And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.
She dwells with Beauty—Beauty that must die;
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Ay, in the very temple of Delight
Veil’d Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
Can burst Joy’s grape against his palate fine;
His soul shalt taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her cloudy trophies hung.
Ode on Melancholy is one of the best odes written by Keats. It offers some advice on how to deal with depression. The ode poem also tells to seek and admire beauty.
Must Read: A Sad Poem on Losing All My Life
2. I Measure Every Grief I Meet
By Emily Dickinson (1830–1886)
I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, eyes –
I wonder if It weighs like Mine –
Or has an Easier size.
I wonder if They bore it long –
Or did it just begin –
I could not tell the Date of Mine –
It feels so old a pain –
I wonder if it hurts to live –
And if They have to try –
And whether – could They choose between –
It would not be – to die –
I note that Some – gone patient long –
At length, renew their smile –
An imitation of a Light
That has so little Oil –
I wonder if when Years have piled –
Some Thousands – on the Harm –
That hurt them early – such a lapse
Could give them any Balm –
Or would they go on aching still
Through Centuries of Nerve –
Enlightened to a larger Pain –
In Contrast with the Love –
The Grieved – are many – I am told –
There is the various Cause –
Death – is but one – and comes but once –
And only nails the eyes –
There’s Grief of Want – and grief of Cold –
A sort they call “Despair” –
There’s Banishment from native Eyes –
In sight of Native Air –
And though I may not guess the kind –
Correctly – yet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing Calvary –
To note the fashions – of the Cross –
And how they’re mostly worn –
Still fascinated to presume
That Some – are like my own –
The first four lines of this poem on sadness set the tone of the poetry. The poetess acknowledges her sadness, but at the same time also says that she closely watches other people too. The whole idea behind it being able to see whether the measures of grief are the same.
Also try: A Sad Poem on Falling in the Darkness
Hope you liked this sad poem post and we promise to be back soon.
Thanks for Reading. Have a nice time!