Alan Seeger

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

Alan Seeger Poems

41. The Bayadere 1/1/2004
42. Lyonesse 1/1/2004
43. The Sultan's Palace 1/3/2003
44. Written In A Volume Of The Comtesse De Noailles 1/1/2004
45. The Need To Love 1/3/2003
46. Ariosto. Orlando Furioso, Canto X, 91-99 1/1/2004
47. Tithonus 1/1/2004
48. Coucy 1/1/2004
49. An Ode To Antares 1/1/2004
50. Sonnet Xvi: Who Shall Invoke Her 1/3/2003
51. After An Epigram Of Clement Marot 1/1/2004
52. Bellinglise 1/1/2004
53. Kyrenaikos 1/1/2004
54. Eudaemon 1/1/2004
55. Liebestod 1/1/2004
56. The Hosts 1/3/2003
57. On A Theme In The Greek Anthology 1/1/2004
58. The Deserted Garden 1/3/2003
59. All That's Not Love . . . 1/1/2004
60. Juvenilia, An Ode To Natural Beauty 1/1/2004
61. With A Copy Of Shakespeare's Sonnets On Leaving College 1/1/2004
62. Translations: Dante - Inferno, Canto Xxvi 1/1/2004
63. Broceliande 1/1/2004
64. La Nue 1/1/2004
65. Paris 1/1/2004
66. At The Tomb Of Napoleon 1/1/2004
67. I Loved... 1/1/2004
68. The Wanderer 1/3/2003
69. Ode In Memory Of The American Volunteers Fallen For France 1/3/2003
70. Champagne, 1914-15 1/3/2003
71. Rendezvous 1/3/2003
72. A Message To America 1/1/2004
73. Do You Remember Once . . . 1/1/2004
74. Maktoob 1/3/2003
75. I Have A Rendezvous With Death 1/3/2003

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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

Sonnet V

A tide of beauty with returning May
Floods the fair city; from warm pavements fume
Odors endeared; down avenues in bloom
The chestnut-trees with phallic spires are gay.
Over the terrace flows the thronged cafe;
The boulevards are streams of hurrying sound;
And through the streets, like veins when they abound,
The lust for pleasure throbs itself away.
Here let me live, here let me still pursue

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