Poetry Explorer


Classic and Contemporary Poetry


KING DEATH by BRYAN WALLER PROCTER

First Line: KING DEATH WAS A RARE OLD FELLOW
Last Line: HURRAH FOR THE COAL-BLACK WINE!
Subject(s): DEATH; DEAD, THE;

King Death was a rare old fellow!
He sat where no sun could shine;
And he lifted his hand so yellow,
And poured out his coal black wine.
@3Hurrah for the coal-black wine@1!

There came to him many a Maiden,
Whose eyes had forgot to shine;
And widows, with grief o'er-laden,
For a draught of his sleepy wine.
@3Hurrah for the coal-black wine@1!

The Scholar left all his learning;
The Poet his fancied woes;
And the Beauty, her bloom returning
As the beads of the black wine rose.
@3Hurrah for the coal-black wine@1!

All came to the royal old fellow,
Who laughed till his eyes dropped brine,
As he gave them his hand so yellow,
And pledged them in Death's black wine.
@3Hurrah! Hurrah!
Hurrah for the coal-black wine@1!



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