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Funeral Poetry

Most people like to include some poetry readings in the tribute for their loved one but choosing the appropriate piece can be daunting. I am on hand with an extensive resource of materials to help you to select something which is just right. 

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Here is a small selection of poetry. Please feel free to use it. 

Turn Again To Life

If I should die and

Leave you here awhile

Be not like others sore undone,

Who keep long vigils

By the silent dust and weep.

For my sake turn again

To life and smile

Nerving thy heart

And trembling hand to do

Something to comfort

Other hearts than thine.

Complete these dear

Unfinished Tasks of mine,

And I, perchance

May therein comfort you.

 

Mary Lee Hall

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When I Am Dead My Dearest

When I am dead, my dearest,

Sing no sad songs for me;

Plant thou no roses at my head,

Nor shady cypress tree:

With showers and dewdrops wet;

And if thou wilt, remember,

And if thou wilt, forget.

I shall not see the shadows,

I shall not feel the rain;

I shall not hear the nightingale

Sing on, as if in pain;

And dreaming through the twilight

That doth not rise nor set,

Haply I may remember

And haply may forget.

 

Christina Rossetti

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All Is Well

Death is nothing at all,

I have only slipped into the next room

I am I and you are you

Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.

Call me by my old familiar name,

Speak to me in the easy way which you always used

Put no difference in your tone,

Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow

Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.

Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.

Let my name be ever the household word that it always was,

Let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.

It it the same as it ever was, there is unbroken continuity.

Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?

I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near,

Just around the corner.

All is well.

 

Henry Scott Holland 

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Remember

Remember me when I am gone away,

gone far away into the silent land;

When you can no more hold me by the hand,

nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day

you tell me of the future that you planned;

Only remember me; you understand

it will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet, if you should forget me for a while

and afterwards, remember, do not grieve:

For if the darkness and corruption leave

a vestige of the thoughts that once I had,

better by far you should forget and smile

than that you should remember and be sad.

 

Christina Rossetti.

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Farewell, sweet dust

Now I have lost you, I must scatter

All of you on the air henceforth;

Not that to me it can ever matter

But it’s only fair to the rest of the earth.

 

Now especially, when it is winter

And the sun’s not half as bright as it was,

Who wouldn’t be glad to find a splinter

That once was you, in the frozen grass?

 

Snowflakes, too, will be softer feathered,

Clouds, perhaps, will be whiter plumed;

Rain, whose brilliance you caught and gathered,

Purer silver have resumed.

 

Farewell, sweet dust; I never was a miser:

Once, for a minute, I made you mine:

Now you are gone, I am none the wiser

But the leaves of the willow are as bright as wine.

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Elinor Wylie 

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Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,

So do our minutes hasten to their end,

Each changing place with that which goes before,

In sequent toil all forwards do contend.

Nativity, once in the main of light,

Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown’d,

Crooked eclipses ‘gainst his glory fight,

And Time, that gave, doth now his gift confound.

Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,

And delves the parallels in beauty’s brow;

Feels on the rarities of nature’s truth,

And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.

And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand,

Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

 

William Shakespeare 

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Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
(Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!)

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Mary Frye

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The Seashore

I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white
sails to the morning breeze and starts
for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until at length
she hangs like a speck of white cloud
just where the sea and sky come 
to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says;
"There, she is gone!"

"Gone where?"
Gone from my sight. That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull
and spar as she was when she left my side
and she is just as able to bear her
load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her.

And just at the moment when someone
at my side says, "There, she is gone!"
There are other eyes watching her coming,
and other voices ready to take up the glad shout;
"Here she comes!"
And that is dying.

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Henry Van Dyke 

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Death Be Not Proud

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better than thy stroake; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

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John Donne

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To the best of my knowledge, all of the poetry reproduced here is no longer subject to copyright. If you feel that your copyright has been infringed, thern please contact me.

© 2016 by Alan Edge, Funeral Celebrant. Proudly created with Wix.com

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