Funeral Blues (Stop all the clocks)

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 wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

OverView

This poem captures the overwhelming and world-stopping feeling of personal grief. The speaker demands that the entire world halt its everyday activities to acknowledge the immense loss. It powerfully conveys the totality of love and the devastating void left by death. Famously recited in the film “Four Weddings and a Funeral”.

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More Funeral

Under the wide and starry sky,
Dig the grave and let me lie.
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.

This be the verse you grave for me:
Here he lies where he longed to be;
Home is the sailor, home from sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come
to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says, ‘There, she is gone’

Gone where? Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me — not in her.

And, just at the moment when someone says, ‘There, she is gone,’
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices
ready to take up the glad shout, ‘Here she comes!’

And that is dying…
If I should go before the rest of you
Break not a flower nor inscribe a stone
Nor when I’m gone speak in a Sunday voice
But be the usual selves that I have known
Weep if you must
Parting is hell
But life goes on
So sing as well.
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 must all 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 at heart
Go to the friends we know
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds
Miss me – but let me go.
Just close your eyes and you will see all the memories that you have of me

Just sit and relax and you will find, I’m really still there inside your mind.

Don’t cry for me now I’m gone, for I am in the land of song.

There is no pain, there is no fear, so dry away that silent tear

Don’t think of me in the dark and cold. for here I am, no longer old.

I’m in that place that’s filled with love, known to you all, as “up above”.

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