Alan Seeger

(22 June 1888 - 4 July 1916 / New York City, New York)

Alan Seeger Poems

1. I Have A Rendezvous With Death 1/3/2003
2. A Message To America 1/1/2004
3. Champagne, 1914-15 1/3/2003
4. Rendezvous 1/3/2003
5. Ode In Memory Of The American Volunteers Fallen For France 1/3/2003
6. Do You Remember Once . . . 1/1/2004
7. Maktoob 1/3/2003
8. The Wanderer 1/3/2003
9. I Loved... 1/1/2004
10. At The Tomb Of Napoleon 1/1/2004
11. Paris 1/1/2004
12. Broceliande 1/1/2004
13. Translations: Dante - Inferno, Canto Xxvi 1/1/2004
14. With A Copy Of Shakespeare's Sonnets On Leaving College 1/1/2004
15. All That's Not Love . . . 1/1/2004
16. La Nue 1/1/2004
17. The Deserted Garden 1/3/2003
18. On A Theme In The Greek Anthology 1/1/2004
19. The Hosts 1/3/2003
20. Juvenilia, An Ode To Natural Beauty 1/1/2004
21. Eudaemon 1/1/2004
22. Bellinglise 1/1/2004
23. Kyrenaikos 1/1/2004
24. An Ode To Antares 1/1/2004
25. Sonnet Xvi: Who Shall Invoke Her 1/3/2003
26. After An Epigram Of Clement Marot 1/1/2004
27. Coucy 1/1/2004
28. Ariosto. Orlando Furioso, Canto X, 91-99 1/1/2004
29. The Need To Love 1/3/2003
30. The Torture Of Cuauhtemoc 1/1/2004
31. The Sultan's Palace 1/3/2003
32. Liebestod 1/1/2004
33. Lyonesse 1/1/2004
34. The Bayadere 1/1/2004
35. Antinous 1/1/2004
36. The Rendezvous 1/1/2004
37. Tithonus 1/1/2004
38. On The Cliffs, Newport 1/1/2004
39. Resurgam 1/1/2004
40. Sonnet 03 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Alan Seeger

I Have A Rendezvous With Death

I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air—
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath—
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.

God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk ...

Read the full of I Have A Rendezvous With Death

The Rendezvous

He faints with hope and fear. It is the hour.
Distant, across the thundering organ-swell,
In sweet discord from the cathedral-tower,
Fall the faint chimes and the thrice-sequent bell.
Over the crowd his eye uneasy roves.
He sees a plume, a fur; his heart dilates --
Soars . . . and then sinks again. It is not hers he loves.
She will not come, the woman that he waits.

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