Poetry and readings at a funeral
Charles Preen
Poems by Christina Rossetti, particularly ‘Let me go’ and ‘Remember’ are popular choices at many funerals. Mary Frye’s ‘Do not stand at my grave and weep’ is another favourite.
I’m always on the hunt for less well-known verse that might strike a chord.
I recently came across a short poem by Joyce Grenfell which I think is wonderful. It contains a message about finding ways to cope with grief after losing a loved one.
You’ve just walked on ahead of me
And I’ve got to understand
You must release the ones you love
And let go of their hand.
I try and cope the best I can
But I’m missing you so much
If I could only see you
And once more feel your touch.
Yes, you’ve just walked on ahead of me
Don’t worry I’ll be fine
But now and then I swear I feel
Your hand slip into mine.
Some may think that Pardon Me for Not Getting Up by Kelly Roper would not be appropriate at a funeral but people have very different tastes and I’ve used it with great success and laughter on more than one occasion.
Oh dear, if you’re reading this right now,
I must have given up the ghost.
I hope you can forgive me for being
Such a stiff and unwelcoming host.
Just talk amongst yourself my friends,
And share a toast or two.
For I am sure you will remember well
How I loved to drink with you.
Don’t worry about mourning me,
I was never easy to offend.
Feel free to share a story at my expense
And we’ll have a good laugh at the end.
I recently read J.L. Carr’s novel ‘A month in the country’ which contains a heartfelt passage that might well make for an excellent reading.
‘Ah, those days … for many years afterwards their happiness haunted me. Sometimes, listening to music, I drift back and nothing has changed. The long end of summer. Day after day of warm weather, voices calling as night came on and lighted windows pricked the darkness and, at daybreak, the murmur of corn and the warm smell of fields ripe for harvest. And being young.
If I’d stayed there, would I always have been happy? No, I suppose not. People move away, grow older, die and the bright belief that there will be another marvellous thing around each corner fades. It is now or never; we must snatch at happiness as it flies.’
At the end of a service I’m very fond of using this short poem by Robert Burns.
Epitaph for a Friend
An honest man here lies at rest,
The friend of man, the friend of truth,
The friend of age, the guide of youth;
Few hearts like his, with virtue warm’d,
Few heads with knowledge so inform’d;
If there’s another world, he lives in bliss;
If there is none, he made the best of this.
Finding the right words to use at a funeral service is part of my job and I’m constantly looking for new ways to help a family say goodbye.