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COME away, come away, death,
And in sad cypres let me be laid;
Fly away, fly away, breath;
I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
O prepare it!
My part of death, no one so true
Did share it.
Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
On my black coffin let there be strown;
Not a friend, not a friend greet
My poor corse, where my bones shall be thrown:
A thousand thousand sighs to save,
Lay me, O, where
Sad true lover never find my grave
To weep there!
William Shakespeare
Read poems about / on: flower, sad, friend, death
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Click here to write your comments about this poem (Dirge by William Shakespeare)
Charles Mccarthy (3/6/2005 8:28:00 PM)
Death is a door
Death is a forest gate, bramble to bluff (Siloam)
It is a way thru
– not a way out
It is but the way thru
to continue what we have begun
Death is a hope
Death is a future
It draws us deeper into the self’s whole
It allows us to penetrate the wall of fear
In death their witness lights:
Jesus, Ghandi, Biko, King
Thru death their work becomes known:
Day, Merton, Hammerskjold, Romero
After death their message expands:
Lennon, Chavez, Foucauld
In spite of death their songs are sung:
Paz, Shakers
Seeds sown! Life given!
Tales told! Songs sung!
To life (to come) .
Charles McCarthy,1/19/03
(inspired by Dominick Argento’s “Dirge”,
words by William Shakespeare
performed by Jason Oby and Robert Avalon) |
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William Shakespeare
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