Do not stand at my grave and weep" is the first line and popular title of this bereavement poem of disputed authorship the poem was first formally published in the December 1934 issue of The Gypsy poetry magazine where it was titled "Immortality", with the author as Clare Harner (1909–1977)
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
By Clare Harner
Do not stand By my grave, and weep. I am not there, I do not sleep- I am the thousand winds that blow I am the diamond glints in snow I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle, autumn rain. As you awake with morning’s hush, I am the swift up-flinging rush Of quiet birds in circled flight, I am the day transcending soft night. Do not stand By my grave, and cry- I am not there. I did not die.
Clare Harner. "Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep."
This famous poem by Edgar Albert Guest (1881-1959) has been bringing comfort to grief stricken parents for years. Guest himself suffered the loss of two of his children. A Child of Mine is a popular poem to read at funerals of children. To lose a child is one of life's most awful experiences. Focusing on the gift of your few years together can bring a measure of comfort.
A Child Of Mine
By Edgar A. Guest
I will lend you, for a little time, A child of mine, He said. For you to love the while he lives, And mourn for when he's dead. It may be six or seven years, Or twenty-two or three. But will you, till I call him back, Take care of him for Me? He'll bring his charms to gladden you, And should his stay be brief. You'll have his lovely memories, As solace for your grief. I cannot promise he will stay, Since all from earth return. But there are lessons taught down there, I want this child to learn. I've looked the wide world over, In search for teachers true. And from the throngs that crowd life's lanes, I have selected you. Now will you give him all your love, Nor think the labour vain. Nor hate me when I come To take him home again? I fancied that I heard them say, 'Dear Lord, Thy will be done!' For all the joys Thy child shall bring, The risk of grief we'll run. We'll shelter him with tenderness, We'll love him while we may, And for the happiness we've known, Forever grateful stay. But should the angels call for him, Much sooner than we've planned. We'll brave the bitter grief that comes, And try to understand.
Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened.
Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner.
All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
A goal is more than a destination—it is a vision backed by purpose, action, and determination. Today’s Word of the Day, goal, reminds us that growth begins when we decide where we want to go and commit ourselves to the journey.
Another exciting week has arrived at Emerald Book Club, and we are delighted to welcome readers, writers, creatives, and community members to join us for a full schedule of engaging activities. Whether you enjoy poetry, storytelling, games, reading quietly with others, or learning new vocabulary, there is something for everyone to enjoy this week.
Spanish literature offers a rich, diverse, and globally influential canon ranging from classical masterpieces like Cervantes’ Don Quixote (often considered the first modern novel) to contemporary works. Key genres include magical realism, historical drama, and, significantly, literature from the Spanish Golden Age. Essential reads for learners and enthusiasts include The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The House…
Fragment 3: Come, come thou bleak December wind by Samuel Taylor Coleridge Come, come thou bleak December wind,And blow the dry leaves from the tree!Flash, like a Love-thought, thro’ me, DeathAnd take a Life that wearies me.
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep by Clare Harner. Do not stand By my grave, and weep. I am not there, I do not sleep- I am the thousand winds that blow I am the diamond glints in snow https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/do-not-stand-by-my-grave-and-weep-by-clare-harner
Death is nothing at all By Henry Scott-Holland Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened.
COME away, come away, death, And in sad cypres let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O prepare it! My part of death, no one so true Did share it.
Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corse, where my bones shall be thrown: A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O, where Sad true lover never find my grave To weep there!
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