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Soap Box Poets

Death Is Nothing At All
© by Canon Scott Holland (1847-1918)

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, that we are still.
Call me by my old familiar name, speak to 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 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 effort, without the ghost of
a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was; there is absolutely
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 waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very
near, just around the corner.
All is well.


Submitted by Corinne

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