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Long Illness | African American | American Indian | Military

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Poems for Funerals — General Selections

The Dash

I read of a man who stood to speak

At the funeral of a friend.

He referred to the dates on her tombstone

From the beginning to the end.

He noted that first came her date of birth

And spoke the following date with tears,

But he said what mattered most of all

Was the dash between the years.

For that dash represents all the time

That she spent alive on earth.

And now only those who loved her

Know what that little line is worth

For it matters not how much we own;

The cars, the house, the cash,

What matters is how we live and love

And how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard.

Are there things you'd like to change?

For you never know how much time is left,

That can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough

To consider what's true and real

And always try to understand

The way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger,

And show appreciation more,

And love the people in our lives

Like we've never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect,

And more often wear a smile

Remembering that this special dash

Might only last a little while.

So, when your eulogy's being read

With your life's actions to rehash

Would you be proud of the things they say

About how you spent your dash?

Linda Ellis

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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 our future that you planned:

only remember me; you understand

it will be late to counsel them 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 I once had,

better by far you should forget and smile

than that you should remember and be sad.

Christina Rossetti

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On Emily's Father's Death

In truth: from sad a good will sometimes grow,

though how it sprouts and blooms we never know;

tend now to all your evanescent pains—

in time from them one gathers greater grains.

samBdavis

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Sonnet LXXI

No longer mourn for me when I am dead

than you shall hear the surly sullen bell

Give warning to the world that I am fled

from this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell:

Nay, if you read this line, remember not

the hand that writ it; for I love you so,

that I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,

if thinking on me then should make you woe.

O, if, I say, you look upon this verse

when I perhaps compounded am with clay,

do not so much as my poor name rehearse,

but let your love even with my life decay;

lest the wise world should look into your moan

and mock you with me after I am gone.

William Shakespeare

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I'd Like to Think

I'd like to think when life is done

that I had filled a needed post,

that here and there I'd paid my fare

with more than idle talk and boast;

that I had taken gifts divine,

the breath of life and manhood fine

and tried to use them now and then

in service for my fellow man.

Guest

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The Last Invocation

At the last, tenderly,

from the walls of the powerful fortress'd house,

from the clasp of the knitted locks,

from the keep of the well closed doors,

let me be wafted.

Let me glide noiselessly forth;

with the key of softness unlock the locks— with a whisper,

set open the doors O soul.

Tenderly— be not impatient,

(strong is your hold O mortal flesh,

strong is your hold O love.)

Walt Whitman

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Wild Swans at Coole (final verse)

Unwearied still, lover by lover,

they paddle in the cold

companionable streams or climb the air;

their hearts have not grown old;

passion or conquest, wander where they will,

attend upon them still.

But now they drift on the still water,

mysterious, beautiful;

among what rushes will they build,

by what lake's edge or pool

delight men's eyes when I awake someday

to find they have flown away.

Yeats

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The Lake Isle of Innisfree

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

and a small cabin built there, of clay and wattles made:

nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,

and live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I will have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,

dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;

there midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,

and evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

while I stand on the roadway, upon the pavements grey,

I hear it in the deep heart's core.

Yeats

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From Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

The moving finger writes, and have writ

moves on: nor all thy piety or wit

shall lure it back to cancel half a line,

nor all thy tears wash out a word of it.

---

From The Prophet on Death

Your fear of death is but the trembling

of the shepherd when he stands before

the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honor.

Is the shepherd not joyful beneath

his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?

Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling

For what is it to die but to stand naked

in the wind and to melt in the sun?

And what is it to cease breathing,

but to free the breath from its restless

tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river

of silence shall you indeed sing.

And when you have reached the mountain top,

then you shall begin to climb.

And when the earth shall claim your limbs,

then you shall truly dance.

Kahil Gibran

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Do Not Weep For Me

Do not weep for me, for I have lived...

I have joined my hand with my fellows' hands,

to leave the planet better than I found it.

Do not weep for me, for I have loved and been loved by

my family, by those I loved who loved me back

for I never knew a stranger, only friends.

Do not weep for me.

When you feel the ocean spray upon your face,

I am there.

When your heart beats faster at the dolphin's leaping grace,

I am there.

When you reach out to touch another's heart,

as now I touch God's face,

I am there.

Do not weep for me. I am not gone.

Poet unknown (read for Michael Landon )

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Do Not Go Gently Into That Good Night

Do not go gently into that good night,

old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

because their words had forked no lightning they

do not go gently into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

and learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

do not go gently into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage, against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,

Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas (read for Richard Burton)

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Funeral Blues

Stop all t he clocks, cut off the telephone,

prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,

put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my north, my south, my east and west,

my working week and my Sunday best,

my noon, my midnight, my talk my song;

I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one:

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods:

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W. F. Auden (read in the film "Four weddings and a Funeral")

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Poems for a Funeral for Spouse

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 them 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 I once had,

better by far you should forget and smile

than that you should remember and be sad.

Christina Rossetti

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Sonnet LXXI

No longer mourn for me when I am dead

than you shall hear the surly sullen bell

Give warning to the world that I am fled

from this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell:

nay, if you read this line, remember not

the hand that writ it; for I love you so,

that I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,

if thinking on me then should make you woe.

O, if, I say, you look upon this verse

when I perhaps compounded am with clay,

do not so much as my poor name rehearse,

but let your love even with my life decay;

lest the wise world should look into your moan

and mock you with me after I am gone.

William Shakespeare

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Do Not Weep For Me

Do not weep for me, for I have lived...

I have joined my hand with my fellows' hands,

to leave the planet better than I found it.

Do not weep for me, for I have loved and been loved by

my family, by those I loved who loved me back

for I never knew a stranger, only friends.

Do not weep for me.

When you feel the ocean spray upon your face,

I am there.

When your heart beats faster at the dolphin's leaping grace,

I am there.

When you reach out to touch another's heart,

as now I touch God's face,

I am there.

Do not weep for me. I am not gone.

Poet unknown (read for Michael Landon )

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The Widower

For a season there must be pain–

For a little, little space

I shall lose the sight of her face,

Take back the old life again

While She is at rest in her place.

For a season this pain must endure,

For a little. Little while

I shall sigh more often than smile

Till Time shall work me a cure,

And the pitiful days beguile.

For a season we must be apart,

For a little length of years,

Till my life’s last hour nears,

And above the beat of my heart,

I hear Her voice in my ears.

But I shall not understand –

Being set on some later love,

Shall not know her for whom I strove,

Till she reach me forth her hand,

Saying, "Who but I have the right?’

And out a troubled night

Shall draw me safe to the land.

Rudyard Kipling

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Poems for a Parent's Funeral

A Cut Finger

A cut finger

is numb before it bleeds,

it bleeds before it hurts,

it hurts until it begins to heal,

it forms a scab and itches

until finally, the scab is gone

and a small scar is left

where once there was a wound.

Grief is the deepest wound

you ever had.

Like a cut finger,

it goes through stages,

and leaves a scar.

Poet Unknown • Submitted by: Alicia Wells, a young girl trying to deal with mother’s death

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In Memory of My Mother

I do not think of you lying in the wet clay

of a Monaghan graveyard; I see

you walking down a lane among the poplars

on your way to the station, or happily

Going to second Mass on a summer Sunday—

You meet me and you say:

"Don't forget to see about the cattle— "

Among your earthiest words the angels stray.

And I think of you walking along

a headland of green oats in June,

so full of repose, so rich with life—

And I see us meeting at the end of town

on a fair day by accident, after

the bargains are all made and we can walk

together through the shops and stalls and markets

free in the oriental streets of thought.

O you are not lying in the wet clay,

for it is a harvest evening now and we

are piling up the rocks against the moonlight

and you smile up at us— eternally.

Patrick Kavanagh

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On Emily's Father's Death

In truth: from sad a good will sometimes grow,

though how it sprouts and blooms we never know;

tend now to all your evanescent pains—

in time from them one gathers greater grains.

samBdavis

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Do Not Weep For Me

Do not weep for me, for I have lived...

I have joined my hand with my fellows' hands,

to leave the planet better than I found it.

Do not weep for me, for I have loved and been loved by

my family, by those I loved who loved me back

for I never knew a stranger, only friends.

Do not weep for me.

When you feel the ocean spray upon your face,

I am there.

When your heart beats faster at the dolphin's leaping grace,

I am there.

When you reach out to touch another's heart,

as now I touch God's face,

I am there.

Do not weep for me. I am not gone.

Poet unknown (read for Michael Landon)

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Poems For Child's Funeral

Epitaph for a Child

Here, freed from pain, secure from misery, lies

a child, the darling of his parents' eyes:

A gentler lamb never sported on the plain.

A fairer flower will never bloom again:

few were the days allotted to his breath;

now let him sleep in peace his night of death.

Thomas Gray

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Second Sowing

For whom

The milk ungiven in the breast

When the child is gone?

For whom

The love locked up in the heart

That is left alone?

That golden yield

Split sod once, overflowed an August field,

Threshed out in pain upon September's floor,

Now hoarded high in barns, a sterile store.

Break down the bolted door;

Rip open, spread and pour

The grain upon the barren ground

Wherever crack in clod is found.

There is no harvest for the heart alone:

The seed of love must be

Eternally

Resown.

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Poems for Funerals When an Unexpected Death

Do Not Weep For Me

Do not weep for me, for I have lived...

I have joined my hand with my fellows' hands,

to leave the planet better than I found it.

Do not weep for me, for I have loved and been loved by

my family, by those I loved who loved me back

for I never knew a stranger, only friends.

Do not weep for me.

When you feel the ocean spray upon your face,

I am there.

When your heart beats faster at the dolphin's leaping grace,

I am there.

When you reach out to touch another's heart,

as now I touch God's face,

I am there.

Do not weep for me. I am not gone.

Poet unknown (read for Michael Landon )

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Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,

put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my north, my south, my east and west,

my working week and my Sunday best,

my noon, my midnight, my talk my song;

I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one:

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods:

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W. F. Auden (read in the film "Four weddings and a Funeral")

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Do Not Go Gently Into That Good Night

Do not go gently into that good night,

old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

because their words had forked no lightning they

do not go gently into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

and learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

do not go gently into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage, against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,

Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas (read for Richard Burton)

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From Berck-Plage

Now the washed sheets fly in the sun,

The pillow cases are sweetening.

It is a blessing, it is a blessing:

The long coffin of soap-colored oak,

The curious bearers and the raw date

Engraving itself in silver with marvelous calm.

Sylvia Plath

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Where the Sidewalk Ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends

And before the street begins

And there the grass grows soft and white.

And there the sun burns crimson bright,

And there the moon-bird rests from his flight

To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black

And the dark street winds and bends.

Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow

We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,

And watch where the chalk white arrows go,

To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes, we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,

And we’ll go where the chalk white arrows go,

For the children, they mark, and the children, they know

The place where the sidewalk ends.

Shel Silverstein • From Where the Sidewalk Ends • Harper Collins Publishers, NY • Copyright: 1974 Evil Eye Music, Inc.

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You Came to Me

you came to me

and woke me in the night

small disheveled figure tumbled out

with dragging sheets

hurrying to

quit the sight of monsters and ther

inquisitive snout of that

intrusive stranger

death

you crept into my bed

and shivering curled against me

your firm blossoming cheek

beneath my hand

I felt your round knees

digging comfort from my

warm belly

the fiends and shaped then

leaped

from your narrow

wishbone breast

you after all had

cried santuary

and landed fully operative

into my dreams

and in my dreams

there was nothing ranged

father now mother now

god

to annul that

dark decree

Nancy Dingman Watson

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Poems for a Funeral After a Long Illness

From The Prophet

Your fear of death is but the trembling

of the shepherd when he stands before

the king whose hand is to be laid upon him

in honor.

Is the shepherd not joyful beneath

his trembling, that he shall wear the mark

of the king?

Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling

For what is it to die but to stand naked

in the wind and to melt in the sun?

And what is it to cease breathing,

but to free the breath from its restless

tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river

of silence shall you indeed sing.

And when you have reached the mountain top,

then you shall begin to climb.

And when the earth shall claim your limbs,

then you shall truly dance.

Kahil Gibran

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Do Not Weep For Me

Do not weep for me, for I have lived...

I have joined my hand with my fellows' hands,

to leave the planet better than I found it.

Do not weep for me, for I have loved and been loved by

my family, by those I loved who loved me back

for I never knew a stranger, only friends.

Do not weep for me.

When you feel the ocean spray upon your face,

I am there.

When your heart beats faster at the dolphin's leaping grace,

I am there.

When you reach out to touch another's heart,

as now I touch God's face,

I am there.

Do not weep for me. I am not gone.

Poet unknown (read for Michael Landon )

---

Not every man knows what he shall sing at the end,

Watching the pier as the ship sails away, or what it will seem like

When he’s held by the sea’s roar, motionless, there at the end,

Or what he shall hope for one it is clear that he’ll never go back.

When the time has passed to prune the rose or caress the cat, when

The sunset torching the lawn and the full moon icing it down

No longer appear, not every man knows what he’ll discover instead,

When the weight of the past leans against nothing and the sky.

Is no more than remembered light, and the stories are suspended in flight,

Not every man knows what is waiting for him, or what he shall sing

When the ship he is on slips into darkness, there at the end.

Mark Strand

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Poems for African American Funerals

When Storms Arise

When storms arise And dark’ning skies

    About me threat’ning lower,

To Thee, O Lord, I raise mine eyes,

To Thee my tortured spirit flies

    For solace in that hour.

The mighty arm

Will let no harm

    Come near me not befall me;

The voice shall quiet my alarm,

When life’s great battle waxeth warm–

    No foeman shall appall me.

Upon they breast

Secure I rest,

    From sorrow and vexation;

No more by sinful cares oppressed,

But in they presence ever blest,

O God of my salvation.

Go Down, Moses • Paul Laurence Dunvar (1895) • Edited by Richard Newman, Crown Publishing Group/Roundtable Press, Inc., NY, 1998 • From Conversations with God–Two Centuries of Prayers by African Americans • By James Melvin Washington, Ph.D.

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Free at Last

I know my Lord is a man of war;

He fought my battle at Hell’s dark door.

Satan thought he had me fast;

I broke his chain and got free at last.

Free at last, free at last,

Thank God Almighty, I’m free at last.

Free at last, free at last,

Thank God almighty, I’m free at last.

You can hinder me here, but you cant’ hinder me there;

The Lord in Heaven’s going to answer my prayer.

I went in the valley, but I didn’t go to stay;

My soul got happy and I stayed all day.

From Go Down, Moses • Richard Newman, Crown Publishing Group/Roundtable Press, Inc., NY, 1998

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The Angels Are Watching Over Me

All night, all night

The angels are watching over me.

All night, all night

The angels are watching over me.

Someday Peter and someday Paul,

The angels are watching over me–

Ain’t but one God made us all,

The angels are watching over me,

You get there before I do,

The angels are matching over me–

Tell all my friends I’m coming too.

The angles are watching over me.

From Go Down, Moses • Richard Newman, Crown Publishing Group/Roundtable Press, Inc., NY, 1998

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Funeral Readings for American Indians

In the great night my heart will go out,

Toward me the darkness comes rattling,

In the great night my heart will go out.

From the Papago

In Readings for Remembrance, Eleanor Munro, • Penguin Books, 2000

---

Perchance do we truly live on earth?

Not forever on earth,

But briefly here!

Be it jade, it too will be broken;

Be it gold, it too will be melted,

And even the plume of the quetzal decays.

Not forever on earth,

But briefly here!

From the Aztec

In Readings for Remembrance, Eleanor Munro • Penguin Books, 2000

---

The moon and the year

Travel and pass away;

also the day, also the wind.

Also the flesh passes away

To the place of its quietness.

From the Maya • In Readings for Remembrance, Eleanor Munro • Penguin Books, 2000

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Poems for Military Funerals

From A Psalm of Life

Lives or great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,

And, departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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Not every man knows what he shall sing at the end,

Watching the pier as the ship sails away, or what it will seem like

When he’s held by the sea’s roar, motionless, there at the end,

Or what he shall hope for one it is clear that he’ll never go back.

When the time has passed to prune the rose or caress the cat, when

The sunset torching the lawn and the full moon icing it down

No longer appear, not every man knows what he’ll discover instead,

When the weight of the past leans against nothing and the sky.

Is no more than remembered light, and the stories are suspended in flight,


Not every man knows what is waiting for him, or what he shall sing

When the ship he is on slips into darkness, there at the end.

Mark Strand

---

I was still thinking of …boys I knew for whom there had been no difference between war and peace, who had returned from Vietnam so scarred within and without that they couldn’t fit into the society they had been sent to defend, boys wounded more by sights and deeds than bullets. At the tip of the hill I sat beneath a sycamore nd stared idly across the next valley at the trees and scrub brush on the oppositre slope, my thoughts on the folly and inevitability of war.

Stephen Greenleaf

---

A Horseman Passes

A clan gathers at the Camp

Butler cemetery to bury Bill

my uncle; many people

meet among the uniform soldier

stones standing white about burial

tents. In life at death we stare

at the coal hue coffin

so smooth, so lacquery black

we can see ourselves in it,

and cast cold eyes

at what reflections passing by.

People mull on the man-pun being

put under, facing our uncertain

concerns whether we could have been

better to him. The minister points

to the good in Bill we as his

familiars often overlooked

in our need to pull down one with less

to boost our suspected mores,

and I wonder if he ever felt true

love in his time, if his Pollock niche

with my kin was close enough

to appease the need to be needed

we all need. I know now

the origins of burial sadness lie

in the sounds, in the grave voice

of preacher prayer

in solemn soliloquy

of an Amvet Rep

and in the uncommon catch

of breath in mourning

fighting the foul cry– for

it's only our relative fears

that brings to us related tears.

samBdavis

Quotations

Death ends a life....not a relationship.

Tuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom

---

Life after loss is...a new normal.

Ted Bowman

---

It is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.

Chinese Proverb

---

How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?

Satchell Paige

---

The best thing about the future is that it only comes one day at a time.

Abraham Lincoln

---

From A Time to Grieve, Carol Staudacher, Harper, San Francisco, 1994

The only courage that matters is the kind that gets you from one minute to the next.

Mignon McLaughlin

---

From A Time to Grieve, Carol Staudacher, Harper, San Francisco, 1994

The most I ever did for you, was to outlive you, but that is much.

Edna St Vincent Millay

---

The presence of that absence is everywhere.

Edna St Vincent Millay

---

Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.

Matthew 5:4 (King James Version)

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Fighting the entropy of life can make peace feel elusive, but it is always somewhere inside of us, waiting for our attention. Even when we can't find the moments, we can believe in its ongoing presence.

Cendra Lynn

---

We do not remember days, we remember moments.

Cesare Pavese

---

From A Time to Grieve, Carol Staudacher, Harper, San Francisco, 1994

It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, (protecting its sanity), covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens, but it is never gone.

Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy

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Two in distress suffer less.

Proverb

---

From A Time to Grieve, Carol Staudacher, Harper, San Francisco, 1994

At all crucial moments in our lives we want to speak without knowing what to say.

Joyce Carol Oates

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From A Time to Grieve, Carol Staudacher, Harper, San Francisco, 1994

The best tribute you can make to a loved one is the life you live after the death.

Unknown

---

Have courage for the great sorrows in life, and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. God is awake.

Victor Hugo

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Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.

Soren Kierkegaard

Quick Links for Scriptures:

Catholic | Jewish | Presbyterian | Spouse | Child | Unexpected Death | Long Illness

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Scripture for Funerals - Catholic

Ecclesiastes 3:1-15

There is an appointed time for everything,

    and a time for every affair under the heavens.

A time to be born, and a time to die;

    a time to plant, and a time to uproot the plant.

A time to kill, and a time to heal;

    a time to tear down, and a time to build.

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

    a time to mourn, and a time to dance.

A time to scatter stones, and a time to gather them;

    a time to embrace, and a time to be far from embraces.

A time to seek, and a time to lose;

    a time to keep, and a time to cast away.

A time to rend, and a time to sew;

    a time to be silent, and a time to speak.

A time to love, and a time to hate;

    a time of war, and a time of peace.

---

What advantage has the worker from his toil?

I have considered the task which God has appointed for men to be busied
about. He has made everything appropriate to its time, and has put the
timeless into their hearts, without men's ever discovering, from beginning
to end, the work, which God has done.

The Word of the Lord. • New American Bible • National Conference of Catholic Bishops/United States Catholic Conference • 3211 4th Street, N.E., Washington, DC 20017-1194 (202) 541-3000 • Copyright © United States Catholic Conference

---

Song of Solomon 2: 8-14 (198) A.5

Hark! my lover-here he comes

   springing across the mountains,

   leaping across the hills.

My lover is like a gazelle

   or a young stag.

Here he stands behind our wall,

   gazing through the windows,

   peering through the lattices.

My lover speaks; he says to me,

"Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one, and come!

"For see, the winter is past,

   the rains are over and gone.

The flowers appear on the earth,

   the time of pruning the vines has come,

   and the song of the dove is heard in our land.

The fig tree puts forth its figs,

   and the vines, in bloom, give forth fragrance.

Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one, and come!"

"O my dove in the clefts of the rock,

   in the secret recesses of the cliff,

Let me see you, let me hear your voice,

For your voice is sweet, and you are lovely."

The Word of the Lord. • New American Bible • National Conference of Catholic Bishops/United States Catholic Conference • 3211 4th Street, N.E., Washington, DC 20017-1194 (202) 541-3000 • Copyright © United States Catholic Conference

---

Isaiah 40: 1-11 (183)

Comfort, give comfort to my people,

   says your God.

Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her

   that her service is at an end,

   her guilt is expiated;

Indeed, she has received from the hand of the Lord

   double for all her sins.

   A voice cries out:

In the desert prepare the way of the Lord!

   Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God!

Every valley shall be filled in,

   every mountain and hill shall be made low;

The rugged land shall be made a plain,

   the rough country, a broad valley.

Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed

   and all mankind shall see it together

   for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.

A voice says, "Cry out"'

   I answer, "What shall I cry out?"

"All mankind is grass

   and all their glory like the flower of the field.

The grass withers, the flower wilts,

   when the breath of the Lord blows upon it

   [So then, the people is the grass.]

Though the grass withers and the flower wilts

   the word of our God stands forever."

Go up onto a high mountain,

   Zion, herald of glad tidings;

Cry out at the top of your voice,

   Jerusalem, herald of good news!

Fear not to cry out

   and say to the cities of Judah:

   Here is your God!

Here comes with power

   the Lord God,

   who rules by his strong arm;

Here is his reward with him,

   his recompense before him.

Like a shepherd he feeds his flock;

   in his arms he gathers the lambs,

Carrying them in his bosom,

   and leading the ewes with care.

The Word of the Lord. • New American Bible • National Conference of Catholic Bishops/United States Catholic Conference • 3211 4th Street, N.E., Washington, DC 20017-1194 (202) 541-3000 • Copyright © United States Catholic Conference

---

Romans 5: 1-5 (167)

A reading from the letter of Paul to the Romans:

Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with
God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access
(by faith) to this grace in which we stand, and we boast in hope of the
glory of God. Not only that, but we even boast of our afflictions, knowing
that affliction produces endurance, and endurance, proven character, and
proven character, hope, and hope does not disappoint, because the love
of God has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that
has been given to us.

The Word of the Lord. • New American Bible • National Conference of Catholic Bishops/United States Catholic Conference • 3211 4th Street, N.E., Washington, DC 20017-1194 (202) 541-3000 • Copyright © United States Catholic Conference

---

1 Corinthians 2: 6-10 (77)

A reading from the first letter of Paul to the Corinthians:

Yet we do speak a wisdom to those who are mature, but not a wisdom of
this age, nor of the rulers of this age who are passing away. Rather,
we speak God's wisdom, mysterious, hidden, which God predetermined before
the ages for our glory, and which none of the rulers of this age knew;
for if they had known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.
But as it is written: "What eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, and
what has not entered the human heart, what God has prepared for those
who love him," this God has revealed to us through the Spirit. For the
Spirit scrutinizes everything, even the depths of God.

The Word of the Lord. • New American Bible • National Conference of Catholic Bishops/United States Catholic Conference • 3211 4th Street, N.E., Washington, DC 20017-1194 (202) 541-3000 • Copyright © United States Catholic Conference

---

1 Thessalonians 5: 1-6, 9-11 (432)

A reading from the first letter of Paul to the Thessalonians:

Concerning times and seasons, brothers, you have no need for anything
to be written to you. For you yourselves know very well that the day of
the Lord will come like a thief at night. When people are saying, "Peace
and security," then sudden disaster comes upon them, like labor pains
upon a pregnant woman, and they will not escape. But you, brothers, are
not in darkness, for that day to overtake you like a thief. For all of
you are children of the light 1 and children of the day. We are not of
the night or of darkness. Therefore, let us not sleep as the rest do,
but let us stay alert and sober.... For God did not destine us for wrath,
but to gain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us,
so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live together with him.
Therefore, encourage one another and build one another up, as indeed you
do.

The Word of the Lord. • New American Bible • National Conference of Catholic Bishops/United States Catholic Conference • 3211 4th Street, N.E., Washington, DC 20017-1194 (202) 541-3000 • Copyright © United States Catholic Conference

---

John 12:23-28

"If a grain of wheat falls on the ground and dies..."

A reading from the holy gospel according to John:

Jesus answered them, "The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.
Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground
and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces
much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life
in this world will preserve it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must
follow me, and where I am, there also will my servant be. The Father will
honor whoever serves me. "I am troubled now. Yet what should I say? 'Father,
save me from this hour'? But it was for this purpose that I came to this
hour. Father, glorify your name." Then a voice came from heaven, "I have
glorified it and will glorify it again."

The Gospel of the Lord.

---

Luke 23:44-46, 50, 52-53; 24:1-6a

A reading from the holy gospel according to Luke:

It was now about noon and darkness came over the whole land until three
in the afternoon because of an eclipse of the sun. Then the veil of the
temple was torn down the middle. Jesus cried out in a loud voice, "Father,
into your hands I commend my spirit"; and when he had said this he breathed
his last.

Now there was a virtuous and righteous man named Joseph who, though he
was a member of the council... He went to Pilate and asked for the body
of Jesus. After he had taken the body down, he wrapped it in a linen cloth
and laid him in a rock-hewn tomb in which no one had yet been buried.

But at daybreak on the first day of the week they took the spices they
had prepared and went to the tomb. They found the stone rolled away from
the tomb; but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord
Jesus. While they were puzzling over this, behold, two men in dazzling
garments appeared to them. They were terrified and bowed their faces to
the ground. They said to them, "Why do you seek the living one among the
dead? He is not here, but he has been raised.

The Gospel of the Lord. • New American Bible • National Conference of Catholic Bishops/United States Catholic Conference • 3211 4th Street, N.E., Washington, DC 20017-1194 (202) 541-3000 • Copyright © United States Catholic Conference

---

Scripture for Funerals - Jewish

Meditation Before Kaddish

Because the Kaddish voices the spirit of the imperishable in man, because
it refuses to acknowledge death as triumphant, because mankind, to flower
and develop again in the human heart it possesses sanctifying power. To
know that when you die there will remain those who, wherever they may
be on this wide earth, whether they be poor or rich, will send this prayer
after you, to know that they will cherish your memory as their dearest
inheritance–what more satisfying or sanctifying knowledge can you ever
hope for? And such is the knowledge bequeathed to us all by the Kaddish.

While the Kaddish is recited in memory of the departed it contains no
reference to death. Rather it is an avowal made in the midst of our sorrow,
that God is just, though we do not always comprehend His ways. When death
seems to overwhelm us, negating life, the Kaddish renews our faith in
the worthwhileness of life. Through the Kaddish, we publicly manifest
our desire and intention to assume the relation to the Jewish community,
which our parents had in their lifetime. Continuing the chain of tradition
that binds generation to generation, we express our undyng faith in God’s
love and justice, and pray that He will speed the day when His kingdom
shall finally be established and His peace pervade the world.

From Sabbath and Festival Prayer Book • The Rabbinical Assembly of America • The United Synagogue of America • 1968 Printing • Rabbi Morris Silverman

---

God Everlasting

Psalm 93

The Lord reigneth; he is robed in majesty;

The Lord is robed, He hath girded Himself with strength.

Now is the earth firmly established;

It shall not be moved

Thy throne is established of old;

Thou art from everlasting.

The waters lift up their voices, O Lord,

The waters lift up their roaring;

Yet above the voices of many waters,

The mighty waters, breakers of the sea,

Thou, O Lord, art mighty on high.

Thy law is true and unfailing;

Holiness is becoming to Thy house, O Lord, forevermore.

From Sabbath and Festival Prayer Book • The Rabbinical Assembly of America • The United Synagogue of America • 1968 Printing • Rabbi Morris Silverman

---

Lord of the World

Lord of the world, the King supreme,

Ere aught was formed, He reigned alone.

When by His will all things were wrought,

Then was His sovereign name make known.

And when in time all things shall cease,

He still shall reign in majesty.

He was, He is, He shall remain

All glorious eternally.

Incomparable, unique is He,

No other can His Oneness share.

Without beginning, without end,

Dominion’s might is His to bear.

He is my living God who saves,

My rock when grief or trials befall,

My banner and my refuge strong,

My bounteous portion when I call.

My soul I give unto his care,

Asleep, awake for He is near,

And with my soul, my body too;

God is with me, I have no fear.

From Sabbath and Festival Prayer Book • The Rabbinical Assembly of America • The United Synagogue of America • 1968 Printing • Rabbi Morris Silverman

---

Scripture for Funerals - Presbyterian

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want

He makes me lie down in green pastures

He leads me beside still waters,

He restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness

for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I fear no evil;

for though art with me;

thy rod and thy staff,

they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me

in the presence of my enemies;

thou anointest my head with oil,

my cup overflows,

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

all the days of my life;

and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

The Funeral–A Service of Witness to the Resurrection • The Office of Worship for the Presbyterian Church, 1986 • Westminster Press, Philadelphia, PA

---

John 11:25-26; Rev. 21:6; 22:13; 1:17-18; John 14:19

I am the resurrection and the life, says the Lord

Those who believe in me shall live,

Even though they die,

And whoever lives and believes in me shall never die.

I am the Alpha and the Omega,

the beginning and the end,

the first and the last.

I died and behold I am alive for evermore;

And I have the keys of Death and Hades.

Because I live, you too will also live.

The Funeral–A Service of Witness to the Resurrection • The Office of Worship for the Presbyterian Church, 1986 • Westminster Press, Philadelphia, PA

---

Rev. 21:6; 22:13

Have you not known? Have you not heard?

The Lord is the everlasting God,

The Creator of the ends of the earth.

He does not faint or grow weary,

his understanding is unsearchable.

He gives power to the faint,

and to him who has no might he increases strength.

Even youths shall faint and be weary,

and young men shall fall exhausted;

but they who wait for the lord shall renew their strength,

they shall mount up with wings like eagles,

they shall run and not be wary,they shall walk and not faint.

The Funeral–A Service of Witness to the Resurrection • The Office of Worship for the Presbyterian Church, 1986 • Westminster Press, Philadelphia, PA

---

Ecclesiastes 3:1-15

There is an appointed time for everything,

    and a time for every affair under the heavens.

A time to be born, and a time to die;

    a time to plant, and a time to uproot the plant.

A time to kill, and a time to heal;

    a time to tear down, and a time to build.

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

    a time to mourn, and a time to dance.

A time to scatter stones, and a time to gather them;

    a time to embrace, and a time to be far from embraces.

A time to seek, and a time to lose;

    a time to keep, and a time to cast away.

A time to rend, and a time to sew;

    a time to be silent, and a time to speak.

A time to love, and a time to hate;

    a time of war, and a time of peace.

The Funeral–A Service of Witness to the Resurrection • The Office of Worship for the Presbyterian Church, 1986 • Westminster Press, Philadelphia, PA

---

Prayer

Merciful God,

You heal the broken heart

And bind up the wounds of the afflicted.

Strengthen us in our weakness,

Calm our troubled spirits,

And dispel our doubts and fears.

In Christ’s rising from the dead

You

Renew our trust in you

That by the power of your love

We shall one day be brought together again

With our [name].

Grant this we pray through Jesus Christ our Lord.

The Funeral–A Service of Witness to the Resurrection • The Office of Worship for the Presbyterian Church, 1986 • Westminster Press, Philadelphia, PA

---

Religious Funeral Reading For a Spouse

Song of Solomon 2: 8-14 (198)

A reading from the Song of Solomon

Hark! my lover-here he comes

    springing across the mountains,

    leaping across the hills.

My lover is like a gazelle

    or a young stag.

Here he stands behind our wall,

    gazing through the windows,

    peering through the lattices.

My lover speaks; he says to me,

"Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one, and come!

"For see, the winter is past,

    the rains are over and gone.

The flowers appear on the earth,

    the time of pruning the vines has come,

    and the song of the dove is heard in our land.

The fig tree puts forth its figs,

    and the vines, in bloom, give forth fragrance.

Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one, and come!"

"O my dove in the clefts of the rock,

    in the secret recesses of the cliff,

Let me see you, let me hear your voice,

For your voice is sweet.

---

Religious Funeral Readings for a Child

Ecclesiastes 3:1-15

There is an appointed time for everything,

    and a time for every affair under the heavens.

A time to be born, and a time to die;

    a time to plant, and a time to uproot the plant.

A time to kill, and a time to heal;

    a time to tear down, and a time to build.

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

    a time to mourn, and a time to dance.

A time to scatter stones, and a time to gather them;

    a time to embrace, and a time to be far from embraces.

A time to seek, and a time to lose;

    a time to keep, and a time to cast away.

A time to rend, and a time to sew;

    a time to be silent, and a time to speak.

A time to love, and a time to hate;

    a time of war, and a time of peace.

The Funeral–A Service of Witness to the Resurrection • The Office of Worship for the Presbyterian Church, 1986 • Westminster Press, Philadelphia, PA

---

Prayer

Merciful God,

You heal the broken heart

And bind up the wounds of the afflicted.

Strengthen us in our weakness,

Calm our troubled spirits,

And dispel our doubts and fears.

In Christ’s rising from the dead

You conquered death and opened the gates to everlasting lie.

Renew our trust in you

That by the power of your love

We shall one day be brought together again

With our [name].

Grant this we pray through Jesus Christ our Lord.

The Funeral–A Service of Witness to the Resurrection • The Office of Worship for the Presbyterian Church, 1986 • Westminster Press, Philadelphia, PA

---

Revelations 2:8, 10

The words of the first and the last, who died and came to life: "Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life."

---

Jewish Burial Rite

From Death, Virginia Sloyan, 1990 Archdiocese of Chicago.

Father of compassion, shelter them under the shadow of your wings for ever and let their souls be bound in the bundle of life.

---

Religious Funeral Readings for an Unexpected Death

1 Thessalonians 5: 1-6, 9-11 (432)

A reading from the first letter of Paul to the Thessalonians

Concerning times and seasons, brothers, you have no need for anything to be

written to you. For you yourselves know very well that the day of the Lord

will come like a thief at night. When people are saying, "Peace and

security," then sudden disaster comes upon them, like labor pains upon a

pregnant woman, and they will not escape. But you, brothers, are not in

darkness, for that day to overtake you like a thief. For all of you are

children of the light 1 and children of the day. We are not of the night or

of darkness. Therefore, let us not sleep as the rest do, but let us stay

alert and sober.... For God did not destine us for wrath, but to gain

salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we

are awake or asleep we may live together with him. Therefore, encourage one

another and build one another up, as indeed you do.

The Word of the Lord. • New American Bible • National Conference of Catholic Bishops/United States Catholic Conference • 3211 4th Street, N.E., Washington, DC 20017-1194 (202) 541-3000 • Copyright © United States Catholic Conference

---

Prayerscripture

Merciful God,

You heal the broken heart

And bind up the wounds of the afflicted.

Strengthen us in our weakness,

Calm our troubled spirits,

And dispel our doubts and fears.

In Christ’s rising from the dead

You conquered death and opened the gates to everlasting lie.

Renew our trust in you

That by the power of your love

We shall one day be brought together again

With our [name].

Grant this we pray through Jesus Christ our Lord.

The Funeral–A Service of Witness to the Resurrection • The Office of Worship for the Presbyterian Church, 1986 • Westminster Press, Philadelphia, PA

---

Ecclesiastes 3:1-15

A reading from the book of Ecclesiastes

There is an appointed time for everything,

    and a time for every affair under the heavens.

A time to be born, and a time to die;

    a time to plant, and a time to uproot the plant.

A time to kill, and a time to heal;

    a time to tear down, and a time to build.

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

    a time to mourn, and a time to dance.

A time to scatter stones, and a time to gather them;

    a time to embrace, and a time to be far from embraces.

A time to seek, and a time to lose;

    a time to keep, and a time to cast away.

A time to rend, and a time to sew;

    a time to be silent, and a time to speak.

A time to love, and a time to hate;

    a time of war, and a time of peace.

New American Bible • National Conference of Catholic Bishops/United States Catholic Conference • 3211 4th Street, N.E., Washington, DC 20017-1194 (202) 541-3000 • Copyright © United States Catholic Conference

---

Religious Funeral Readings for After a Long Illness

Isaiah 40: 1-11 (183)

Comfort, give comfort to my people,

   says your God.

Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her

   that her service is at an end,

   her guilt is expiated;

Indeed, she has received from the hand of the Lord

   double for all her sins.

   A voice cries out:

In the desert prepare the way of the Lord!

   Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God!

Every valley shall be filled in,

   every mountain and hill shall be made low;

The rugged land shall be made a plain,

   the rough country, a broad valley.

Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed

   and all mankind shall see it together

   for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.

A voice says, "Cry out"'

   I answer, "What shall I cry out?"

"All mankind is grass

   and all their glory like the flower of the field.

The grass withers, the flower wilts,

   when the breath of the Lord blows upon it

   [So then, the people is the grass.]

Though the grass withers and the flower wilts

   the word of our God stands forever."

Go up onto a high mountain,

   Zion, herald of glad tidings;

Cry out at the top of your voice,

   Jerusalem, herald of good news!

Fear not to cry out

   and say to the cities of Judah:

   Here is your God!

Here comes with power

   the Lord God,

   who rules by his strong arm;

Here is his reward with him,

   his recompense before him.

Like a shepherd he feeds his flock;

   in his arms he gathers the lambs,

Carrying them in his bosom,

   and leading the ewes with care.

The Word of the Lord. • New American Bible • National Conference of Catholic Bishops/United States Catholic Conference • 3211 4th Street, N.E., Washington, DC 20017-1194 (202) 541-3000 • Copyright © United States Catholic Conference

---

Rev. 21:6; 22:13

Have you not known? Have you not heard?

The Lord is the everlasting God,

The Creator of the ends of the earth.

He does not faint or grow weary,

his understanding is unsearchable.

He gives power to the faint,

and to him who has no might he increases strength.

Even youths shall faint and be weary,

and young men shall fall exhausted;

but they who wait for the lord shall renew their strength,

they shall mount up with wings like eagles,

they shall run and not be wary,

they shall walk and not faint.

The Funeral–A Service of Witness to the Resurrection • The Office of Worship for the Presbyterian Church, 1986 • Westminster Press, Philadelphia, PA

---

Lord of the World

Lord of the world, the King supreme,

Ere aught was formed, He reigned alone.

When by His will all things were wrought,

Then was His sovereign name make known.

And when in time all things shall cease,

He still shall reign in majesty.

He was, He is, He shall remain

All glorious eternally.

Incomparable, unique is He,

No other can His Oneness share.

Without beginning, without end,

Dominion’s might is His to bear.

He is my living God who saves,

My rock when grief or trials befall,

My banner and my refuge strong,

My bounteous portion when I call.

My soul I give unto his care,

Asleep, awake for He is near,

And with my soul, my body too;

God is with me, I have no fear.

From Sabbath and Festival Prayer Book • The Rabbinical Assembly of America • The United Synagogue of America, 1968 • Rabbi Morris Silverman

Quick Links for Secular Readings:

General Selections | Spouse | Child | Unexpected Death | Suicide |
Long Illness

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Secular Readings for Funerals — General Selections

Out of Solitude

When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to

us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice,

solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our

wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in

a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief or

bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face

with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.

Henri Nouwen

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From Julius Caesar

Cowards die many times before their death;

The valiant never taste of death but once.

Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,

It seems to me most strange that men should fear;

Seeing that death, a necessary end,

Will come when it will come.

William Shakespeare

---

Tell him that we shall all bear his memory in the most precious part of our

hearts, and that the world shall bow their heads to it, as our loves do. Tell

him that the most skeptical of us has faith enough in the high things that

nature puts into our heads, to think that all who are of one accord in mind

and heart, are journeying to one and the same place, and shall unite somehow

or other again face to face, mutually conscious, mutually delighted. Tell him

he is only before us on the road, as he was in everything else, and that we

are coming after him.

Leigh Hunt, from a letter on the death of John Keats

---

Have courage for the great sorrows in life, and patience for the small ones;

and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in

peace. God is awake.

Victor Hugo

---

When you come to the edge of all that you have known, there will be two

possibilities awaiting you: There will be something solid to stand on or you

will be taught how to fly.

A Turtle Creek Chorale member.

After goodbye: an AIDS story, a PBS, 1995 and 1996.

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From The Apology of Socrates

There is great reason to hope that death is a good; for one of two

things—either death is a state of nothingness and utter unconsciousness, or

as men say, there is a change and migration of the soul from this world to

another. Now if you suppose that there is no consciousness, but a sleep like

the sleep of him who is undisturbed even by dreams, death will be an

unspeakable gain…Now if death be of such a nature, I say that to die is gain;

for eternity is then only a single night. But if dath is the journey to

another place, and there, as men say, all dead abide, what good, O my friends

and judges, can be greater than this?…Wherefore, O judges, be of good cheer

about death, and kow of a certainty, that no evil can happen to a good man,

either in life or after death.

Plato, Translation by B. Jowett

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From The Mysterious Tao

The six cardinal points, reaching into infinity, are ever included in Tao. An

autumn spikelet, in all its minuteness, must carry Tao within itself. There

is nothing on earth which does not rise and fall, but it never perishes

altogether. The Yin and the Yang, and the four seasons, keep to their proper

order. Apparently destroyed, yet really existing; the material gone, the

immaterial left —such is the law of creation, which passeth all

understanding. This is called the root, whence a glimpse may be obtained of God.

Musings of a Chinese Mystic by Chuang Tzu

---

From The Book of Margins

It is very hard to live with silence. The real silence is death…To approach

this Silence, it is necessary to journey into the desert. You do not go into

the desert to find identity but to lose it, to lose your personality, to

become anonymous. You make yourself voiceless. You become silence. And then

something extraordinary happens: you hear silence speak.

Edmond Jabes

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Secular Funeral Readings for a Spouse

Tell him that we shall all bear his memory in the most precious part of our hearts, and theat the world shall bow their heads to it, as our loves do. Tell him that the most skeptical of us has faith enough in the high things that nature puts into our heads, to think that all who are of one accord in mind and heart, are journeying to one and the same place, and shall unite somehow or other again face to face, mutually conscious, mutually delighted. Tell him he is only before us on the road, as he was in everything else, and that we are coming after him.

Leigh Hunt, from a letter on the death of John Keats

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Have courage for the great sorrows in life, and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. God is awake.

Victor Hugo

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From Romeo and Juliet

Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars,

And we will make the face of heaven so fine

That all the world will be in love with night,

And pay no worship to the garish sun.—

And every tongue that

But Romeo’s name speaks heavenly eloquence.

William Shakespeare

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From The Dead

Generous tears filled Gabriel’s eyes. He had never felt like that himself towards any woman, but he knew that such a feeling must be love. The tears gathered more thickly in his eyes and in the partial darkness he imagined he saw the form of a young man standing under a dripping tree. Other forms were near. His soul had approached that region where dwell the vast hosts of the dead. He was conscious of, but could not apprehend, their wayward and flickering existence. His own identity was fading out into grey impalpable world: the solid world itself, which these dead had one time reared and lived itself, was dissolving and dwindling.

A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and father westward softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill… His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.

James Joyce

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Secular Funeral Reading for a Child

Untitled

Suffering - no matter how multiplied - is always individual. "Pain is the most individualizing thing on the earth," Edith Hamilton has written.
"It is true that it is the great common bond as well, but that realization comes only when it is over. To suffer is to be alone. To watch another suffer is to know the barrier that shuts each of us away by himself. Only individuals can suffer.

Suffering is certainly individual, but at the same time it is a universal experience. There are even certain familiar stages in suffering, and familiar, if not identical, steps in coming to terms with it., as in the healing of illness - as, in fact, in coming to terms with death itself. To see these steps in another's life can be illuminating and perhaps even helpful.

What I am saying is not simply the old Puritan truism that "suffering teaches." If suffering alone taught, all the world would be wise, since everyone suffers. To suffering must be added mourning, understanding, patience, love, openness, and the willingness to be vulnerable., All these and other factors combined, if the circumstances are right, can teach and can lead to rebirth.

But there is no simple formula, or swift way out, no comfort or easy acceptance of suffering. "There is no question," as Katherine Mansfield wrote, "of getting beyond it" - "The little boat enters the dark fearful gulf and our only cry is to escape - 'put me on land again.' But it's useless. Nobody listens. The shadowy figure rows on. One ought to sit still and uncover one's eyes."

...Courage is a first step, but simply to bear the blow bravely is not enough. Stoicism is courageous, but it is only a halfway house on the long road. It is a shield, permissible for a short time only. In the end, one has to discard shields and remain open and vulnerable. Otherwise, scar tissue will seal off the wound and no growth will follow. To grow, to be reborn, one must remain vulnerable - open to love but also hideously open to the possibility of more suffering.

Anne Morrow Lindbergh 16 years after the kidnapping and murder of her infant son.

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Dream that my litle baby came to life again; that it had only been cold, and that we rubbed it before the fire, and it lived. Awake and find no baby. I think about the little thing all day. Not in good spirits.

Mary Wollstonecraft

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Secular Funeral Readings for an Unexpected Death

Human existence is girt round with mystery: the narrow region of our experience is a small island in the midst of a boundless sea. To add to the mystery, the domain of our earthly existence is not only an island of infinite space, but also in infinite time. The past and the future
are alike shrouded from us: we neither know the origin of anything which is, nor its final destination.

John Stuart Mill

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Have courage for the great sorrows in life, and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. God is awake.

Victor Hugo

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There is nothing more terrible than the recent death of a one beloved. During the 49 days of ritual observance and ther retreat to a mountain temple with the other mourners, every fiber of emotion is wrung when in these marrow and solitary surroundings are celebrated the masses for the dead. Yet those days glide swiftly and, on the last, desolation is again our portion as we collect our belongings and disperse silently on our several ways to return to the saddened house.

We do not willingly forget the beloved, but days go by and, as the proverb, "Those departed become strangers and remote." The shock subsides. We must laugh and be trivial. The body is buried on a lonely and far-off mountain, and is visited only on ritual days. Before long, memorial stone is overgrown with moss and heaped with dead leaves, and only faithful visitors are the night-wind and the moon…The grass in spring overgrowing may rouse emotion. It may be sad to hear that the ancient pine-tree of a thousand years has fallen in the great storm and is now cut up for firewood. And then the ancient graveyard becomes a ploughed field, and its place knows it no more.

Anonymous, Translated from Japanese by Ryukichi Kurata

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When One Takes His Own Life

Our friend died at his own battlefield. He was killed in action fighting a civil war. He fought against adversities that were as real to him as his casket is real to us. They were powerful adversaries. They took toll of his energies and endurance. They exhausted the last vestiges of his courage and his strength. At last these adversaries overwhelmed him. And it appeared that he had lost the war. But did he? I see a host of victories that he has won!

"For one thing - he has won our admiration - because even if he lost the war, we give him credit for his bravery on the battlefield. And we give him credit for the courage and pride and hope that he used as his weapons as long as he could. We shall remember not his death, but his daily victories gained through his kindness and thoughtfulness, through his love for his family and friends... for all things beautiful, lovely and honorable. We shall remember not his last day of defeat, but we shall remember the many days that he was victorious over overwhelming odds. We shall remember not the years we thought he had left, but the intensity with which he lived the years that he had. Only God knows what this child of His suffered in the silent skirmishes that took place in his soul. But our consolation is that God does know, and understands.

Rivendell Resources grants anyone the right to reprint this without request for compensation so long as the copy is not used for profit and so long as this paragraph is reprinted in its entirety with any copied portion. For further information contact: Cendra (ken'dra) Lynn, Ph.D. Rivendell Resources griefnet@griefnet.org PO Box 3272 Ann Arbor, MI, 48106-3272 http://griefnet.org

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Secular Funeral Readings for After a Long Illness

"When you come to the edge of all that you have known, there will be two

possibilities awaiting you: There will be something solid to stand on or you

will be taught how to fly." A Turtle Creek Chorale member.

(After goodbye: an AIDS story, a PBS video broadcast in 1995 and 1996 on WTVS-TV, Detroit, Channel 56.)

From Julius Caesar

Cowards die many times before their death;

The valiant never taste of death but once.

Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,

It seems to me most strange that men should fear;

Seeing tht death, a necessary end,

Will come when it will come.

William Shakespeare