Poems and Prose for Eulogies
Collected poems, prose and phrases suitable for eulogies
Collected poems, prose and phrases suitable for eulogies
The following is a modest collection of poetry or prose collected from a variety of resources, on and off the Internet. If you have a poem or prose that you have used or heard in a eulogy and feel it would be of benefit to others, send it to webster@katsden.com and I'll post it here. If readers recognize the real titles and authors of any posted anonymous works, or there are corrections needed, I would appreciate hearing from you.
And if I go
While your still here...
Know that I live on,
Vibrating to a different measure
behind a veil you cannot see through.
You will not see me, so you must have faith.
I wait for the time when we can be together again-
both aware of each other.
Until then, live your life to its fullest and when you need me,
Just whisper my name in your heart
...I will be there.
[Contributed by Ed C. -- author unknown]
God looked around his garden, And found an empty place.
He then looked down upon the earth, And saw your tired face.
He put his arms around you, And lifted you to rest.
God's garden must be beautiful, He always takes the best.
He knew that you were suffering, He knew you were in pain.
He knew that you would never, Get well on this earth again.
He saw the road was getting rough, And the hills were hard to climb.
So he closed your weary eyelids, And whispered " Peace be thine."
It broke our hearts to lose you, But you didn't go alone
For part of us went with you, The day God called you home.
author unknown
Death is a season
We all must pass through
And just like the flowers,
God awakens us too
So why should we grieve
When our loved ones die,
For we’ll meet them again
In a cloudless sky.
Helen Steiner Rice
God grant me the serenity,
To accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace;
Taking, as you did, this sinful world as it is,
Not as I would have it;
Trusting that you will make all things right
If I surrender to your will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life,
And supremely happy with you forever in the next.
by Reinhold Niebuhr
The following three poems contributed by KRYSTIANO@aol.com
To the living I am gone
To the sorrowful, I will never return
To the angry, I was cheated.
But to the happy, I am at peace
And to the faithful, I have never left.
I cannot speak, but I can listen
I cannot be seen, but I can be heard.
So, as you stand upon a shore,
Gazing at a beautiful sea-
Remember me.
As you look in awe at a mighty forest
And its grand majesty
Remember me.
Remember me in your heart,
Your thoughts and your memories
Of the times we cried,
The times we fought,
The times we laughed,
For if you always think of me,
I will never be gone from your side.
[ Author Unknown ]
Don't grieve for me, for now I'm free!
I'm following the path God laid for me.
I took His hand when I heard him call,
I turned my back and left it all.
I could not stay another day.
To laugh, to love, to work or play.
Tasks left undone, must stay that way.
I found peace at close of day.
If my parting has left a void,
then fill it with remembered joy!
A love shared, a laugh, a kiss
ah yes! These things I too will miss.
Be not burdened with times of sorrow,
I wish you the sunshine of tomorrow.
My life's been full, I've savored much,
good friends, good times, a loved one's touch.
Perhaps my time seemed all too brief,
don't lengthen it now with undue grief.
Lift up your heart and share with me,
God wanted me now, HE SET ME FREE.
God saw you getting tired
and a cure was not to be,
So he put His arms around you
and whispered "Come to Me."
With tearful eyes we watched you,
and saw you pass away.
Although we loved you dearly,
we could not make you stay.
A Golden Heart stopped beating,
hard working hands at rest,
God broke our hearts to prove to us,
He only takes the best.
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 those dear unfinished tasks of mine
And I, perchance, may therein comfort you.
[from "Turn Again to Life", by Mary Lee Hall]
Time is too slow for those who wait,
too swift for those who fear,
too long for those who grieve,
too short for those who rejoice,
but for those who love, time is eternity.
[the following was omitted from the reading but is part of the original]
Hours fly, flowers die,
new days, new ways pass by ,
Love stays.
by Henry Van Dyke
Do not stand by my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints on snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn's rain
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight;
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there
I did not die.
[author unknown]
It is a fearful thing
to love what death can touch.
A fearful thing
to love, hope, dream:
to be--
to be,
And! to lose.
A thing for fools, this,
and
a holy thing,
a holy thing
to love.
For your life has lived in me,
your laugh once lifted me,
your word was gift to me.
To remember this brings painful joy.
'Tis a human thing, love,
a holy thing,
to love
what death has touched.
[Author unknown]
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 right paths for his name's sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I fear no evil;
for you are with me; your rod and your staff--
they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint 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 my whole life long.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
[by Robert Frost]
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 for long
And not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that we once shared
Miss me but let me go.
For this is a journey
That we all must take
And each must go alone
It's all part of the master's plan
A step on the road to home
When you are lonely and sick of heart
Go to the friends we know
And hurry your sorrow in doing deeds
Miss me, but let me go.
[Author unknown]
'Swiftly beyond our measure
Life's little day speeds on
A moment's fleeting pleasure
And life and light are gone.
Oh thou who in human fashion,
Didst render up thy breath,
And by the bitter passion
Destroy the sting of death.
When life's brief day is over,
Its toil and care and sin
Open thine arms of mercy,
And take the weary in.'
[Author unknown - found on
the stone of John Thompson NSW
died 2/24/1892]
Gather the stars if you wish it so
Gather the songs and keep them.
Gather the faces of women.
Gather for keeping years and years.
And then . . .
Loosen your hands, let go and say good-bye.
Let the stars and songs go.
Let the faces and years go.
Loosen your hands and say good-bye.
[ by Carl Sandburg ]
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 rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: 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.H.Auden from "The Collected Poetry of W. H. Auden"]
Do not go gentle into that goodnight.
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wise men, who at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that goodnight.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in the fragile day
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men, who caught and sang the Sun in flight
And learned too late they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that goodnight.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight,
Blind eyes should blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that goodnight.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light!
[Dylan Thomas (1910-1953) ]
So, we'll go no more a-roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving
And the moon be still as bright.
For the sword outwears its sheath
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And Love itself have rest.
Though the night was made for loving
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a-roving
By the light of the moon.
[George Gordon, Lord Byron ]
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring barque,
Whose worth's unknown although his height be taken.
Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
[Wiiliam Shakespeare (Sonnets #116)]
A NOISELESS, patient spider,
I mark'd, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;
Mark'd how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,
It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;
Ever unreeling them--ever tirelessly speeding them.
And you, O my Soul, where you stand,
Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,--seeking the spheres, to connect them;
Till the bridge you will need, be form'd--till the ductile anchor hold;
Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.
[Whitman, Walt. 1900. Leaves of Grass ]
1
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.
2
Let me glide noiselessly forth;
With the key of softness unlock the locks--with a whisper,
Set ope the doors, O Soul!
3
Tenderly! be not impatient!
(Strong is your hold, O mortal flesh!
Strong is your hold, O love.)
[Whitman, Walt. 1900. Leaves of Grass]
AS I watch'd the ploughman ploughing,
Or the sower sowing in the fields--or the harvester harvesting,
I saw there too, O life and death, your analogies:
(Life, life is the tillage, and Death is the harvest according.)
[Whitman, Walt. 1900. Leaves of Grass]
NOW finale to the shore!
Now, land and life, finale, and farewell!
Now Voyager depart! (much, much for thee is yet in store;)
Often enough hast thou adventur'd o'er the seas,
Cautiously cruising, studying the charts,
Duly again to port, and hawser's tie, returning:
--But now obey, thy cherish'd, secret wish,
Embrace thy friends--leave all in order;
To port, and hawser's tie, no more returning,
Depart upon thy endless cruise, old Sailor!
[ Whitman, Walt. 1900. Leaves of Grass ]
Return to Death/Dying/Grief Guide index
Email to Kathi Webster RN at webster@katsden.com
Copyright © Kathi Webster, 1996, 1997. All rights reserved.
