Anne Killigrew

(1660- 16 June 1685 / London)

Anne Killigrew Poems

1. A Farewel To Worldly Joys 1/1/2004
2. A Pastoral Dialogue 4/21/2010
3. A Pastoral Dialogue - I 4/21/2010
4. A Pastoral Dialogue - Ii 4/21/2010
5. Alexandreis 1/1/2004
6. An Epitaph On Her Self. 4/21/2010
7. An Invective Against Gold 1/1/2004
8. An Ode 4/21/2010
9. Cloris Charmes 4/21/2010
10. Extemporary Counsel Given To A Young Gallant In A Frolick. 4/21/2010
11. First Epigram: Upon Being Contented With A Little 12/31/2002
12. Herodias' Daughter Presenting To Her Mother St. John's Head In A Charger, Also Painted By Her Self 4/21/2010
13. Love, The Soul Of Poetry 1/1/2004
14. On A Picture Painted By Her Self, Representing Two Nimphs Of Diana's, One In A Posture To Hunt, The Other Batheing 4/21/2010
15. On A Young Lady 4/21/2010
16. On Death 12/31/2002
17. On My Aunt Mrs. A. K. 4/21/2010
18. On The Birth-Day Of Queen Katherine 4/21/2010
19. On The Dutchess Of Grafton 4/21/2010
20. On The Soft And Gentle Motions Of Eudora 4/21/2010
21. Penelope To Ulysses. 4/21/2010
22. St. John Baptist Painted By Her Self In The Wilderness, With Angels Appearing To Him, And With A Lamb By Him. 4/21/2010
23. The Complaint Of A Lover 1/1/2004
24. The Discontent 12/31/2002
25. The Fourth Epigram 4/21/2010
26. The Miseries Of Man 12/31/2002
27. The Second Epigram 4/21/2010
28. The Third Epigram 4/21/2010
29. To My Lady Berkeley 4/21/2010
30. To My Lord Colrane 4/21/2010
31. To The Queen 4/21/2010
32. Upon A Little Lady 4/21/2010
33. Upon The Saying That My Verses Were Made By Another 4/21/2010

Comments about Anne Killigrew

  • Ernest Lee Clary (9/25/2011 12:18:00 AM)

    Rest in peace Dear Anne.

    3 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Kevin Casey (9/25/2009 10:40:00 PM)

    anne looks as if she did not dwell on earth for very long and suggested courting death, as do many that traverse into battle facing embracing the surest of all things, it is the biggest shock to everyone at the point of realisation that in this mortal coil we do not dwell for ever, iremember a slight sulleness, when i had to explain to my own children that this is not permanent, i dont think that any one ever gets over it, thus the degrees by which every one plans their own demise like a wedding, that definatley will take place, the confrontation is something that beats on the very souland the degree to which some will go for imposition of this wedding is really exeplified in lines 2 and 24 amazing personell account of some one that is building up layers of protection from her fate by developing a resolve as do soldiers going into battle this on the other hand could just be an observation as she may have been paid to write these pros, ,
    an observation penned that in a kaikaze style, even those that act cowardly know of it and may be cowardly because they truly do love life and do not want to leave, consider that so many give up their lives and make preparation for it in a personnal way, but if one was born where one did not know of death because there was no death and no one ever showed any one how to die theoretically how could one die because they would not have been shown or contemplate this subject it realism, which comes from realise and so forth and so forth, mushrooms and flowers earth and heaven every aspect of this planet is to do with perfection and not being able to attain it death has grooms and ushers

  • Harrison Gwendo (9/26/2006 4:07:00 AM)


Best Poem of Anne Killigrew

On Death

Tell me thou safest End of all our Woe,
Why wreched Mortals do avoid thee so:
Thou gentle drier o'th' afflicteds Tears,
Thou noble ender of the Cowards Fears;
Thou sweet Repose to Lovers sad dispaire,
Thou Calm t'Ambitions rough Tempestuous Care.
If in regard of Bliss thou wert a Curse,
And then the Joys of Paradise art worse;
Yet after Man from his first Station fell,
And God from Eden Adam did expel,
Thou wert no more an Evil, but Relief;
The Balm and Cure to ev'ry Humane Grief:
Through thee (what Man had forfeited before)
He now enjoys, and ne'r ...

Read the full of On Death

The Complaint Of A Lover

Seest thou younder craggy Rock,
Whose Head o'er-looks the swelling Main,
Where never Shepherd fed his Flock,
Or careful Peasant sow'd his Grain.
No wholesome Herb grows on the same,
Or Bird of Day will on it rest;
'Tis Barren as the Hopeless Flame,
That scortches my tormented Breast.

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