Death Is Nothing At All

I had seen this poem before and always liked it. As someone who lost his father too early, I have often been somewhat philosophical about death - both that of others and when pondering my own fate.

I finally got around to getting the full version and looking into its history. Written by Henry Scott-Holland (1847-1918) who was the Canon of St Paul's Cathedral in England, it was apparently read as part of the sermon while the body of King Edward VII was lying in state at Westminster in 1910.

I don't mean to sound morbid, but when my time comes, I hope that those around me will heed these words. And for those who have experienced the death of a loved one, I hope that it brings some comfort as well.

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 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 always 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 in it
Life means all that it ever meant
It is the same as it ever was
There is absolute unbroken continuity
What is 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.
Nothing is past; 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!