The Death

Death is nothingat all.Ihave only slippedaway into the next room.I am i,and you are you.Whatever we were to each other,that we still are.Call me by old familiar name,speak to me in the easy way which you always used.Put no difference in your tone,wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.Play smile,think of me,pray for me.Let my name be ever the household word.That is always was let it be.Spoken without effect,without the trace of a shadow on it.Life means all that it ever meant.It is the same as it ever was;there is unbroken continuity.Why should i be out of mind because i am out of signt?I am waiting for you,for an interval,somewhere very near,just round the corner.All is well.

  
          /Henry Scott Holland/