A sad poem

[Soreofhing]

Two years ago a very good friend of mine died and this poem was read out at his funeral. It was written by Christina Rossetti and I still weep when I hear it:

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 our 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 I once had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

CHRISTINA ROSSETTI (1830-1894)

George Farmer was great chap.

[miguel]

Wonderful. Will add it to favourite poems.

[Soreofhing]

The 4th line needs thinking about. I think I get the idea.
He is half turning to go (die) but his memory stays.

[ChrisGeorge]

Two years ago a very good friend of mine died and this poem was read out at his funeral. It was written by Christina Rossetti and I still weep when I hear it:

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 our 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 I once had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

CHRISTINA ROSSETTI (1830-1894)

George Farmer was great chap.

Hi Soreofhing

Lovely poem, Soreofhing. Thanks for sharing it with us. Sorry about the loss of your friend. I do believe you understand the meaning of the fourth line as written by Ms Rossetti.

Chris

[D.C]

It is a lovely poem...I thought I'd share the words read out at my ex-partners funeral service.
They always bring a lump to my throat too.

The life that I have
Is all that I have
And the life that I have
Is yours

The love that I have
Of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours

A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death will be but a pause
For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours

Leo Marks.

[Gnomie]

Great poems and very moving.

I was given this when when my dad died. it really helps.

If Tomorrow Starts Without Me



If tomorrow starts without me, and I’m not there to see,
If the sun should rise and find your eyes all filled with tears for me;

I wish so much you wouldn’t cry the way you did today,
while thinking of the many things we didn’t get to say.

I know how much you care for me, and how much I care for you,
and each time that you think of me I know you’ll miss me too;

But when tomorrow starts without me, please try to understand,
that an angel came and called my name and took me by the hand,

and said my place was ready in heaven far above,
and that I’d have to leave behind all those I dearly love.

But as I turned to walk away, a tear fell from my eye,
for all life, I’d always thought I didn’t want to die.

I had so much to live for and so much yet to do.
it seemed almost impossible that I was leaving you.

I thought of all our yesterdays, the good ones and the bad
I thought of all the love we shared and all the fun we had.

If I could relive yesterday, I thought, just for a while,
I’d say goodbye and hug you and maybe see you smile.

But then I fully realised that this could never be,
for emptiness and memories would take the place of me.

And when I thought of worldly things that I’d miss come tomorrow.
I thought of you, and when I did, my heart was filled with sorrow.

But when I walked through Heaven’s gates, I felt so much at home.
When God looked down and smiled at me, from His great golden throne,

He said, "This is eternity and all I’ve promised you,
Today your life on earth is past but here it’s starts anew.

I promise no tomorrow, but today will always last.
and since each day’s the same, there’s no longing for the past.

So if tomorrow starts without me, don’t think we’re far apart,
for every time you think of me, please know I’m in your heart.

Author Unknown

[D.C]

Gnomie...you made me cry!!
Really lovely words and I know just what you mean,something like that really can help.
All the best.

[chippie]

Soreofing, DC, and Gnomie.....thanks... I,ve just washed my face with tears.

But I,ll always remember this while they were putting my grandmother and guardian into a cold wet grave in West Derby Cemetery.

Come NOT with tears to where I lie
now all my days and years are by
just say you,ll ALWAYS love me dear
And I WILL hear

[Soreofhing]

These are all heart wrenching aren't they.
Another poignant stanza is:

So fades a summer cloud away;
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er;
So gently shuts the eye of day;
So dies a wave alaong the shore.

Anne Leticia Barbauld 1743-1825

In the same way that Winston Churchill so masterfully used our language to stir up a nation to fight, these long gone poets knew how to bring tears to our eyes even now.

[spekeasy]

there is no flock, however watched and tended. but one dead lamb is there. there is no fireside. howsoe"er defended, but has one vacant chair. we see but dimly through the mists and vapours. amid these earthly damps. what seem to us but sad funeral tapers, may be heavens distant lamps.

[chippie]

thank you Spekeasy for that addition.:hug:

[ChrisGeorge]

there is no flock, however watched and tended. but one dead lamb is there. there is no fireside. howsoe"er defended, but has one vacant chair. we see but dimly through the mists and vapours. amid these earthly damps. what seem to us but sad funeral tapers, may be heavens distant lamps.


Thanks, spekeasy. The poem you are quoting is by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882):

Resignation

There is no flock, however watched and tended,
But one dead lamb is there!
There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended,
But has on vacant chair. . .

We see but dimly through the mists and vapors;
Amid these earthly damps
What seem to us but sad, funeral tapers
May be heaven's distant lamps.

There is no death! What seems so is transition;
This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the life elysian,
Whose portal we call death.

She is not dead,--the child of our affection,--
But gone unto that school
Where she no longer needs our poor protection,
And Christ himself doth rule. . .

We will be patient, and assuage the feeling
We may not wholly stay;
By silence sanctifying, not concealing,
The grief that must have way.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

From: The Chief American Poets, comp. Curtis Page (New York City: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1905), 149-150.

See http://zvester.blogspot.com/ where there are similar poems of comfort in times of bereavement.