Funeral Chaplain

Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,

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

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go but I am not resigned.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

Rows and rows of troubled men,
all locked up tight because of sin.
You seldom see a smile or grin,
on anyone around.

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.

As long as we live, they too will live;
For they are now a part of us: As we remember them!
At the rising sun and at its going down we remember them.

God looked around his garden
And He found an empty place.
And then He looked down upon the earth,
And saw your tired face.

Home is the sailor, home from sea:
Her far-borne canvas furled
The ship pours shining on the quay
The plunder of the world.

Feel no guilt in laughter, she knows how much you care
Feel no sorrow in a smile that she’s not here to share
You cannot grieve forever, she would not want you to

Memory can tell us only what we were,
In company with those we loved;
It cannot help us find out what each of us,

When I come to the end of the road, and the sun has set for me.
I want no rites in a gloom-filled room.
Why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little, but not too long,

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold
Her early leaf's a flower;

O joy! that in our embers
Is something that doth live,
That nature yet remembers
What was so fugitive!

You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.