Mary Elizabeth Frye

(13 November, 1905 - 15 September 2004 / Dayton, Ohio)

Comments about Mary Elizabeth Frye

  • Nidhi Sood (9/13/2018 11:22:00 AM)

    Could anyone please tell me how to add a poem to my favourites

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  • Tuftyaurelius (9/9/2018 7:32:00 PM)

    Of course she’s right but...I believe in the afterlife and the spiriiual world!
    I still weep at my dead son’s gravestone.
    Cemeteries, gravestones, monuments, memorials, cenotaphs for the LIVING BEREAVED? Do we now carry virtual graves in our heads? 🤔

  • Tuftyaurelius (9/9/2018 7:31:00 PM)

    Of course she’s right but...I believe in the afterlife and the spiriiual world!
    I still weep at my dead son’s gravestone.
    Cemeteries, gravestones, monuments, memorials, cenotaphs for the LIVING BEREAVED? Do we now carry virtual graves in our heads? 🤔

  • hhhhheeeelllnn (9/5/2018 7:34:00 PM)

    do you have other poems not just: do not stand at my grave and weep

  • Sandrabeck55@att.net (6/21/2018 4:22:00 AM)

    Does this work

  • Kalpana Dwivedi (6/13/2018 3:49:00 AM)

    Really an amazing feeling. My deepest thanks to this amazing poet.

  • Mohammedsuhail (6/9/2018 4:55:00 AM)

    I need the summary of the poem in london town

  • M Montgomery (6/2/2018 5:39:00 PM)

    there are more than a few sites that still attribute this as a Hopi poem. It is not. See Wikipedia under her name. You can also tell by the way it's written compared to other Hopi poems.

  • Paula Measures (5/31/2018 1:27:00 PM)

    This beautiful piece of writing reflected all my feelings at my parents' funerals. I know it was what they would have said if they could and it gave me strength when I felt lost.

    So my deepest thanks to this wonderful poet.

  • Mary allensworth (3/7/2018 3:40:00 PM)

    That fits just write for my hursban

Best Poem of Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

Read the full of Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
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