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Description
Dedicated to all who grieve remembering love, loss, and life along the dark echoed chambers of their heart.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Funeral Blues

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 (She) is Dead
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policeman wear black cotton gloves.

He (She) was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week, my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song:
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out everyone;
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.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Funeral Blues

by W. A. Auden

Description
Dedicated to all who grieve remembering love, loss, and life along the dark echoed chambers of their heart.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Funeral Blues

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 (She) is Dead
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policeman wear black cotton gloves.

He (She) was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week, my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song:
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out everyone;
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.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Funeral Blues

by W. A. Auden