Funeral Poem - Other

General funeral poems that do not specifically fit into other funeral poem categories. There will be poems of all types in this section including many long time favorite funeral poems.

Poems For A Funeral

Poems For A Funeral

Almost 200 free poems for a funeral can be found on this funeral poems site, and the list is growing all the time.

Poems for a funeral need to be personal and not general. When they are read, you need to feel that the poet knew the person who has died, and wrote the poem just for them.

That's not an easy thing to do, but among the many poems for a funeral that you find on this funeral poems website, we trust you will find just the poem you need. With verses that exactly derscribe the person who has died, or which exactly how you feel at your loss.

We have tried to provide every possible style of poems for a funeral, including funeral poems for servicemen and women, babies and children, young adults, partners, middle aged and more elderly people. You will also find poems for those more difficult funerals, and have included poems for a funeral after suicide, after a still birth, after alzheimers.

We feel for your loss, and whatever your need today, our aim is to make this funeral poems website a site that contains poems for a funeral of any type, whether the death was expected or unexpected, sudden, or after a long illness.

If you are a poet, and you have written poems for funerals, please consider submitting your poem to the site so that the maximum number of bereaved persons may benefit from your work at their time of greatest need.

We hope, over time, that this site will become the worlds largest collection of free poems for a funeral.

Funeral Poems: 

The Loom Of Time

Man's life is laid in the loom of Time
To a pattern he does not see,
While the Weaver works and the shuttles fly
Till the doom of eternity.

Some shuttles are filled with silver thread,
And some with threads of gold;
While often but the darker hue
Is all that they may hold.

But the Weaver watches with skillful eye
Each shuttle fly to and fro,
And sees the pattern so deftly wrought
As the loom works slow and sure.

God surely planned that pattern,
Each thread - the dark and the fair -
Was chosen by His master skill
And placed in the web with care.

He only knows the beauty
And guides the shuttles which hold
The threads so unattractive
As well as the threads of gold.

Not till the loom is silent,
And the shuttles cease to fly
Shall God unroll the pattern
And explain the reason why.

The dark threads are as needful
In the Weavers skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern that He has planned.

Anon

Funeral Poems: 

Fear No More The Heat Of The Sun

Fear no more the heat o’ the sun,
Nor the furious winter’s rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone and ta’en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Fear no more the frown o’ the great;
Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak;
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finish’d joy and moan;
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee and come to dust.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

Funeral Poems: 

Death

If I should die before the rest of you,
Break not a flower nor inscribe a stone.
Nor, when I'm gone, speak in a Sunday voice,
But be the usual selves that I have known.
Weep if you must,
Parting is hell.
But life goes on,
So ... sing as well.

Joyce Grenfell (1910 - 1979)

Funeral Poems: 

Homeward Bound

HOMEWARD BOUND
by Lena Arnold

I rise
Letting my soul flow with the beauty of the sunset
Becoming one with the fullness of the sky
So you see
I didn’t really die
I comprise the rainbow
I comprise the sun
Like the unity in the Father’s kingdom
the Son and I are one

I’m rising
Joining new worlds
New Realities
Riding each cascading wave
of Heaven’s celestial seas
I’ve risen with my beliefs
Gaining comfort from my faith
for my entire Father’s house I now see

Still I rise-
yet the question remains
Will you rise with me?

I rise higher
Shaking off the burdensome dust
from which I was made
Walking on streets of gold
with silver inlaid
And I thank God joyfully
for my dues have all been paid

Still I rise
Becoming one with the beauty
reserved for the sky
So you see
I didn’t really die!

© 2009 Lena Arnold

Excerpted from: Strong Black Coffee: Poetry and Prose to Enlighten, Encourage and Entertain Americans of African Descent. (Emperor Publishing grants permission to use as a part of a funeral service. Grants printing rights to individual and churches to use in programs. Author and Copyright Date Must appear in printing. As a courtesy, also please cite the author when reading aloud.

Funeral Poems: 

Farewell To Thee

Farewell to Thee! But not farewell
To all my fondest thoughts of Thee;
Within my heart they still shall dwell
And they shall cheer and comfort me.
Life seems more sweet that Thou didst live
And men more true Thou wert one;
Nothing is lost that Thou didst give,
Nothing destroyed that Thou hast done.

Anne Bronte (1820 - 1849)

Funeral Poems: 

Family Of Mine: I should like to send you a sunbeam

Family of mine:
I should like to send you a sunbeam, or the twinkle of some bright star,
or a tiny piece of the downy fleece that clings to a cloud afar.

I should like to send you the essence of a myriad sun-kissed flowers,
or the lilting song as it floats along, of a brook through fairy bowers.

I should like to send you the dew-drops that glisten at break of day,
and then at night the eerie light that mantles the Milky Way.

I should like to send you the power that nothing can overflow,
the power to smile and laugh the while a-jouneying through life you go.

But these are mere fanciful wishes; I'll send you a Godspeed instead,
and I'll clasp your hand. Then you'll understand all the things I have left unsaid.

Funeral Poems: 

Even Such Is Time

Even such is Time, that takes in trust
Our youth, our joys, our all we have,
And pays us but with earth and dust;
Who in the dark and silent grave
When we have wandered all our ways,
Shuts up the story of our days;
But from this earth, this grave, this dust,
My God shall raise me up, I trust.

Sir Walter Raleigh (1554-1618)

Funeral Poems: 

My Lonely Journey

The journey that stands before me is one of tears and pain
I know deep in my heart I will never love again

We shared our life together, sometimes happy
Sometimes sad

We shared such precious moments that I am so
Very glad we had

The memories I hold for you are deep within my heart
I knew if you had your way we would never be apart

The tears I know will pass, the pain it never will
My heart will never mend for that I know is real

© 2011 Kim Sheppard

Funeral Poems: 

She Passed Away Like Morning Dew

She passed away like morning dew
Before the sun was high;
So brief her time, she scarcely knew
The meaning of a sigh.

As round the rose its soft perfume,
Sweet love around her floated;
Admired she grew-while mortal doom
Crept on, unfeared, unnoted.

Love was her guardian Angel here,
But Love to Death resigned her;
Though Love was kind, why should we fear
But holy Death is kinder?

Hartley Coleridge (1796 - 1849)

Funeral Poems: 

At that hour

At that hour when all things have repose,
O lonely watcher of the skies,
Do you hear the night wind and the sighs
Of harps playing unto Love to unclose
The pale gates of sunrise?

When all things repose, do you alone
Awake to hear the sweet harps play
To Love before him on his way,
And the night wind answering in antiphon
Till night is overgone?

Play on, invisible harps, unto Love,
Whose way in heaven is aglow
At that hour when soft lights come and go,
Soft sweet music in the air above
And in the earth below.

James Joyce (1882 - 1941)

Funeral Poems: 

The Gate of the Year - The Kings Speech

I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year
'Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.'

And he replied, 'Go into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God
That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way!'

So I went forth and finding the Hand of God
Trod gladly into the night
He led me towards the hills
And the breaking of day in the lone east.

So heart be still!
What need our human life to know
If God hath comprehension?

In all the dizzy strife of things
Both high and low,
God hideth his intention.

1908 Minnie Louise Haskins

This poem was written in 1908 by Minnie Louise Haskins, an American lecturer at the London School of Economics, who wrote as a hobby. It was a favourite of Queen Elizabeth the late Queen Mother, who showed it to her husband King George VI. He included it in his famous Kings Speech Christmas message broadcast in 1939 at the beginning of the Second World War. After the King's death the Queen Mother had it engraved on bronze plaques on the entrance to the King George VI Memorial Chapel, Windsor, where both are now interred. It was also read at the funeral service of the Queen Mother.

Funeral Poems: 

Afterglow

I'd like the memory of me to be a happy one.

I'd like to leave an afterglow of smiles when life is done.

I'd like to leave an echo whispering softly down the ways,

Of happy times and laughing times and bright and sunny days.

I'd like the tears of those who grieve, to dry before the sun;

Of happy memories that I leave when life is done.

Funeral Poems: 

Away - She is not dead, she is just away

Away

I cannot say and I will not say
That she is dead, she is just away.
With a cheery smile and a wave of hand
She has wandered into an unknown land;
And left us dreaming how very fair
Its needs must be, since she lingers there.
And you-oh you, who the wildest yearn
From the old-time step and the glad return-
Think of her faring on, as dear
In the love of there, as the love of here
Think of her still the same way, I say;
She is not dead, she is just away.

James Whitcomb Riley (1849 - 1916)

Funeral Poems: 

Resignation - There Is No Flock

Resignation

There is no flock, however watched and tended,
But one dead lamb is there!
There is no fireside,
howsoe'er defended,
But has one vacant chair!

The air is full of farewells to the dying,
And mournings for the dead;
The heart of Rachel, for her children crying,
Will not be comforted!

Let us be patient! These severe afflictions
Not from the ground arise,
But oftentimes celestial benedictions
Assume this dark disguise.

We see but dimly through the mists
and vapors;
Amid these earthly damps
What seem to us but sad,
funereal tapers

May be heaven's distant lamps.
There is no Death! What seems
so is transition;
This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the life elysian,
Whose portal we call Death.

She is not dead,–the child of our affection,–
But gone unto that school
Where she no longer needs our poor protection,
And Christ himself doth rule.

In that great cloister's
stillness and seclusion,
By guardian angels led,
Safe from temptation,
safe from sin's pollution,
She lives, whom we call dead.

Day after day we think
what she is doing
In those bright realms of air;
Year after year,
her tender steps pursuing,
Behold her grown more fair.

Thus do we walk with her,
and keep unbroken
The bond which nature gives,
Thinking that our remembrance,
though unspoken,
May reach her where she lives.

Not as a child shall we again behold her;
For when with raptures wild
In our embraces we again enfold her,
She will not be a child;

But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion,
Clothed with celestial grace;
And beautiful with all the soul's expansion
Shall we behold her face.

And though at times impetuous
with emotion
And anguish long suppressed,
The swelling heart heaves
moaning like the ocean,
That cannot be at rest,

We will be patient,
and assuage the feeling
We may not wholly stay;
By silence sanctifying,
not concealing,
The grief that must have way.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Funeral Poems: 

Afternoon Rain

You showed me beauty, taught me to see it,

Allowed me to experience it, encouraged me to embrace it,

Dared me to embody it.

Thanks to your love, wisdom and courage.

I will again see the beauty.

At this moment I despise myself for taking us for granted,

For all I know is loss and pain.

I fooled myself into thinking we would always be as we were.

Yet, you reminded me that beauty does indeed always exist.

Though you are gone, I will see it again with the next season.

With your passing, the lush green grass became brittle and brown,

The bright blue sky turned cloudy and grey,

The flowers have withered away,

The rivers and lakes dried,

Yet, you assured me the beauty of life will come again.

The flowers will bloom, the grass will become green, the waters will run,

The sky will be bright.

Papa, I wish we could have defied the odds,

We could have gone on forever just as we were.

But our bodies where meant change - to weaken, to pale, to wither.

I know you were tired, I know you had to leave me.

Though I am lost without you, I remind myself

How lucky we were to have shared so many seasons,

How lucky we were to have sought the beauty of life,

Seen it and experienced it together

How lucky we were to have had each other.

Heather “Sister” Harris

Funeral Poems: 

In Memory - Serene and Beautiful

In Memory

Serene and beautiful and very wise,
Most erudite in curious Grecian lore,
You lay and read your learned books, and bore
A weight of unshed tears and silent sighs.
The song within your heart could never rise
Until love bade it spread its wings and soar.
Nor could you look on Beauty's face before
A poet's burning mouth had touched your eyes.
Love is made out of ecstasy and wonder;
Love is a poignant and accustomed pain.
It is a burst of Heaven-shaking thunder;
It is a linnet's fluting after rain.
Love's voice is through your song;
above and under
And in each note to echo and remain
A red rose is His Sacred Heart,
a white rose is His face,
And His breath has turned the barren
world to a rich and flowery place.
He is the Rose of Sharon,
His gardener am I,
And I shall drink His fragrance
in Heaven when I die.

by Joyce Kilmer

Funeral Poems: 

I Have A Rendevous With Death

I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade
When Spring comes round with rustling shade
And apple blossoms fill the air.

I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.
It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath;
It may be I shall pass him still.

I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow flowers appear.

God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear . . .

But I've a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.

Alan Seeger (1888-1916)

Funeral Poems: 

Because I Could Not Stop For Death

Because I Could Not Stop For Death
He kindly stopped for me.
The Carriage held but just Ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labour and my leisure too,
For His Civility.

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess, in the Ring.
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain
We passed the Setting Sun.

Or rather, He passed Us
The Dews drew quivering and chill
For only Gossamer, my Gown
My Tippet, only Tulle.

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground.
The Roof scarcely visible
The Cornice, in the Ground.

Since then, tis Centuries ...and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses Heads
Were toward Eternity.

Funeral Poems: 

Response For A Burial - Into the darkness and warmth of the earth

Into the darkness and warmth of the earth
We lay you down
Into the sadness and smiles of our memories
We lay you down
Into the cycle of living and dying and rising again
We lay you down
May you rest in peace, in fulfilment, in loving
May you run straight home in God's embrace

Ruth Burgess

Funeral Poems: 

You Would Know The Secret Of Death

what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides,
that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot
unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death,
open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.
In the depth of your hopes and desires
lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow, your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity…
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides,
that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance…”

Kahlil Gibran

Funeral Poems: 

Footprints on the sands of time

Footprints on the sands of time
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Funeral Poems: 

Not, how did he die, but how did he live

Not, how did he die,
but how did he live?
Not, what did he gain,
but what did he give?

These are the units
to measure the worth
Of a man as a man,
regardless of his birth.

Nor what was his church,
nor what was his creed?
But had he befriended
those really in need?

Was he ever ready,
with words of good cheer,
To bring back a smile,
to banish a tear?

Not what did the sketch
in the newspaper say,
But how many were sorry
when he passed away?

Funeral Poems: 

If I should die

If I should die and
Leave you here awhile
Be not like others sore undone,
Who keep long vigils
By the silent dust and weep.

For my sake turn again
To life and smile
Nerving thy heart
And trembling hand to do
Something to comfort
Other hearts than thine.

Complete these dear
Unfinished Tasks of mine,
And I, perchance
May therein comfort you.

Mary Lee Hall

Funeral Poems: 

To Those I Love ('Twas Heaven Here With You)

If I should ever leave you whom I love
To go along the Silent Way, grieve not,
Nor speak of me with tears, but laugh and talk
Of me as if I were beside you there,

(I'd come... I'd come, could I but find a way!
But would not tears and grief be barriers?)
And when you hear a song or see a bird I loved,
Please do not let the thought of me be sad...

For I am loving you just as I always have...
You were so good to me!
There are so many things I wanted still to do...
So many things to say to you...

Remember that I did not fear...
It was just leaving you that was so hard to face...
We cannot see Beyond... But this I know;
I loved you so...

'Twas heaven here with you!

Isla Paschal Richardson

Funeral Poems: 

I Felt An Angel

I felt an angel near today,
though one I could not see
I felt an angel oh so close,
sent to comfort me.

I felt an angel's kiss,
soft upon my cheek
And oh, without a single word
of caring did it speak.

I felt an angel's loving touch,
soft upon my heart
And with that touch,
I felt the pain and hurt within depart.

I felt an angel's tepid tears,
fall softly next to mine
And knew that as those tears did dry
a new day would be mine.

I felt an angel's silken wings
enfold me with pure love
And felt a strength within me grow,
a strength sent from above.

I felt an angel oh so close,
though one I could not see
I felt an angel near today,
sent to comfort me.

Funeral Poems: 

If I Should Never See The Moon Again

If I should never see the moon again
Rising red gold across the harvest field
Or feel the stinging soft rain
As the brown earth her treasures yield.

If I should never taste the salt sea spray
As the ship beats her course across the breeze.
Or smell the dog-rose and new-mown hay,
or moss or primroses beneath the tree.

If I should never hear the thrushes wake
Long before the sunrise in the glimmering dawn.
Or watch the huge Atlantic rollers break
Against the rugged cliffs in baffling scorn.

If I have to say good bye to stream and wood,
To wide ocean and the green clad hill,
I know that he, who made this world so good
Has somewhere made a heaven better still.

This bears witness with my latest breath
Knowing the love of God,
I fear no death.

Major Malcolm Boyd, killed in action in France, June 1944

Funeral Poems: 

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