Poems & Readings
If I Should Die & Leave You Here Awhile
by Mary Lee Hall
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.
There Is No Night Without a Dawning
by Helen Steiner Rice
There is no night without a dawning
No winter without a spring
And beyond the dark horizon
Our hearts will once more sing ….
For those who leave us for a while
Have only gone away
Out of a restless, care worn world
Into a brighter day
Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep
by Bishop Brent
A ship sails and I stand watching till she fades on the horizon
and someone at my side says She is gone
Gone where? Gone from my sight, that is all.
She is just as large now as when I last saw her.
Her diminished size and total loss from my sight is in me, not in her.
And just at the moment when someone at my side says she is gone
There are others who are watching her coming over their horizon
And other voices take up a glad shout There she comes!
That is what dying is.
An horizon and just the limit of our sight.
Lift us up, Oh Lord, that we may see further
When I Am Dead, My Dearest
by Christina Rossetti
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.
Footprints on the sands of time
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Life is but an empty dream! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, — act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o’erhead!
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.