Death is nothing at all
Henry Scott Holland
1847 - 1918
Death is nothing at all,
I have only slipped away
into the next room.
I am I,
and you are you;
whatever we were to each other,
that, we still are.
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 shared together.
Let my name ever be
the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect,
without the trace of a shadow on it.
Lige means all
that it ever meant.
It is 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. |
Calm waters of my protective cove
unknown
Calm waters of my protective cove
was where I could be found.
Until the light burned up the fog
and I began to look around.
And when my eyes did set upon
that expanse of open blue.
With hoisted sail I set out
to catch a breeze or two.
With surprise I glided easily
my anchors left behind.
With canvas full the ocean spray
awoke my weary mind.
And now I know that I can live
without my pain and strife.
'Cause this is where I'm happiest.
Sailing the winds of life.
|