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.
At Every Turning Of My Life
by Rabindranath Tagore
At every turning of my life
I came across
Good friends,
Friends who stood by me
Even when the time raced me by.
Farewell, farewell
My friends
I smile and
Bid you goodbye.
No, shed no tears
For I need them not
All I need is your smile.
If you feel sad
Do think of me
For that’s what I’ll like.
When you live in the hearts
Of those you love
Remember then
You never die.
We Seem To Give Them Back To Thee
by Bishop Brent
We seem to give them back to Thee, 0 God who gavest them to us.
Yet as Thou didst not lose them in giving,
So do we not lose them by their return.
Not as the world giveth, givest Thou 0 Lover of souls.
What Thou givest Thou takest not away,
For what is Thine is ours also if we are thine.
And life is eternal and love is immortal,
And death is only an horizon,
And an horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight.
Lift us up, strong Son of God that we may see further;
Cleanse our eyes that we may see more clearly;
Draw us closer to Thyself
That we may know ourselves to be nearer to our loved ones
Who are with Thee.
And while Thou dost prepare a place for us,
Prepare us also for that happy place,
That where Thou art we may be also for evermore.
Responses for a Cremation
by Ruth Burgess
Into the freedom of wind and sunshine
We let you go
Into the dance of the stars and the planets
We let you go
Into the wind’s breath and the hands of the star maker
We let you go
We love you, we miss you, we want you to be happy
Go safely, go dancing, go running home
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.