If I Should Die
If I should die
and you should grieve
my soul would weep
I do believe.
And knowing this
is hard to bear.
For leaving you
there is no where
to cover gloom.
But in your heart
there still is room
for memories
of how we were.
So please, my love
I ask of you
'Do not grieve
for we're not through.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Related quotes
Ain't Gonna Grieve
by Bob Dylan
Well, I ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
And ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Come on brother, join the band,
Come on sisters, clap your hands,
Tell everybody that's in the land,
You ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Well, I ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
And ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Brown and blue and white and black,
All one color on the one-way track,
We got this far and ain't a-goin' back
And ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Well, I ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
I ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
We're gonna notify your next of kin,
You're gonna raise the roof until the house falls in.
If you get knocked down get up again,
We ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Well, I ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
I ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
We'll sing this song all night long,
Sing it to my baby from midnight on.
She'll sing it to you when I'm dead and gone,
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more.
Well, I ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
Ain't a-gonna grieve no more, no more
I ain't a-gonna grieve no more
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stanzas
I'll not weep that thou art going to leave me,
There's nothing lovely here;
And doubly will the dark world grieve me,
While thy heart suffers there.
I'll not weep, because the summer's glory
Must always end in gloom;
And, follow out the happiest story -
It closes with a tomb!
And I am weary of the anguish
Increasing winters bear;
Weary to watch the spirit languish
Through years of dead despair.
So, if a tear, when thou art dying,
Should haply fall from me,
It is but that my soul is sighing,
To go and rest with thee.
poem by Emily Jane Brontë
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Stanzas
I'll not weep that thou art going to leave me,
There's nothing lovely here;
And doubly will the dark world grieve me,
While thy heart suffers there.
I'll not weep, because the summer's glory
Must always end in gloom;
And, follow out the happiest story—
It closes with a tomb!
And I am weary of the anguish
Increasing winters bear;
Weary to watch the spirit languish
Through years of dead despair.
So, if a tear, when thou art dying,
Should haply fall from me,
It is but that my soul is sighing,
To go and rest with thee.
poem by Emily Brontë from Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (1846)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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To grieve is something extremely difficult, we don't even know how to begin to grieve, and I don't know how you can be taught to grieve.
quote by Charlotte Rampling
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Death Poem
My life on earth was very good,
So don't grieve for me with tears.
Just remember the love we once had,
And bury sorrow without pain and fears.
Miss me a little-but not too long,
Hold no rites in a gloom-filled room.
The sun has set for me by God's plan,
And now I travel the long road home.
This sublime journey we all must take,
And each of us must take it alone.
Jesus has provided a place for me,
And with Him I will walk in peace.
Though my time with you was short,
Now there's only love that'll never cease.
On the road to sweet eternal rest,
A path my God has laid for me,
To perfect peace given only by the Best,
My soul goes on to taste and see.
My heart prays that I ace the test,
So as to claim the crown of the free.
Now if my parting has left a void,
Then fill it in with remembered pleasures.
But do not stand at my grave and weep,
For I go to a land of endless treasures.
Think of me now as the vernal rain,
See me in the stars that no one measures.
My soul flutters in the sun on ripened grain,
And whispers God's praise in the wind.
I've gone where love and joy is forever new,
And where the gentlest lights never end.
poem by Albert Price
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* * *
My Soul, my Soul, all disturbed by sorrows inconsolable,
Bear up, hold out, meet front-on the many foes that rush on you
Now from this side and now that, enduring all such strife up close,
Never wavering; and should you win, don't openly exult,
Nor, defeated, throw yourself lamenting in a heap at home,
But delight in things that are delightful and, in hard times, grieve
Not too much - appreciate the rhythm that controls men's lives.
poem by Archilochus
Submitted by Simona Enache
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And Wilt Thou Weep When I Am Low
And wilt thou weep when I am low?
Sweet lady! speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so---
I would not give that bosom pain.
My heart is sad, my hopes are gone,
My blood runs coldly through my breast;
And when I perish, thou alone
Wilt sigh above my place of rest.
And yet, methinks, a gleam of peace
Doth through my cloud of anguish shine:
And for a while my sorrows cease,
To know thy heart hath felt for mine.
Oh lady! blessd be that tear---
It falls for one who cannot weep;
Such precious drops are doubly dear
To those whose eyes no tear may steep.
Sweet lady! once my heart was warm
With every feeling soft as thine;
But Beauty's self hath ceased to charm
A wretch created to repine.
Yet wilt thou weep when I am low ?
Sweet lady! speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so---
I would not give that bosom pain.
poem by Byron (1808)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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And Wilt Thou Weep When I Am Low?
And wilt thou weep when I am low?
Sweet lady! speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so--
I would not give that bosom pain.
My heart is sad, my hopes are gone,
My blood runs coldly through my breast;
And when I perish, thou alone
Wilt sigh above my place of rest.
And yet, methinks, a gleam of peace
Doth through my cloud of anguish shine:
And for a while my sorrows cease,
To know thy heart hath felt for mine.
Oh lady! blessd be that tear--
It falls for one who cannot weep;
Such precious drops are doubly dear
To those whose eyes no tear may steep.
Sweet lady! once my heart was warm
With every feeling soft as thine;
But Beauty's self hath ceased to charm
A wretch created to repine.
Yet wilt thou weep when I am low?
Sweet lady! speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so--
I would not give that bosom pain.
Ruminating the past
I gained my parents at my birth.
I gained my brothers and sisters
And then my kids and their kids
Every gain to me was a pleasure.
Then I grieve over the loss of them,
One by one, or at leaving them.
I weep and weep, profoundly weep
Over their death or in their sick beds.
What we lose is what we had gained.
The gained are destined to be lost
Or from them we shall be lost.
I recall the good they have done.
I repent the wrongs done to them.
Rumination of pleasure and regrets
Keep me at the old age engaged.
27.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Farewell
GOOD-BY: nay, do not grieve that it is over—
The perfect hour;
That the winged joy, sweet honey-loving rover,
Flits from the flower.
Grieve not,—it is the law. Love will be flying—
Yea, love and all.
Glad was the living; blessed be the dying!
Let the leaves fall.
poem by Harriet Monroe
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Pass On
You grieve
for burst body
wilted will
soon rot
forgotten beneath
broken ground?
Do you grieve
for fossil fingernails?
You discarded
flush forgotten
down tidal toilet
after manicure trimming.
Yet once filed painted
with meticulous care.
Do you grieve
for fame styled
fresh cut hair?
Was streaked
washed dried
in salon sequence.
With trendy celebrity
professional tender care.
Before being shaped
trimmed in fashionable style.
Residue now lies
scattered shorn forgotten
guillotined to be swept up
disposed of as shed waste.
Yet you grieve
for carcass carrion
spent in purpose
of hostage housing
an immortal soul.
Central core cannot die.
All must needs
pass on.
To rudiment
regenerated.
Greater housing.
New spiritual embodiment.
Graduating this life
continuous purification
of an immortal soul.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Memorys Of The Past
Memories of the past affected me
In different ways
How I am what I do
Is who I really am
The pain still lives on
In my memories
In my soul
But to be a better human being
I need to forgive the man
That buried my soul
I grew up being afraid
I grew up being alone
Not really knowing
Just how great one can be
We all have dreams
Of grandness
But often obstacles
Block our dreams
I know it will be
Hard for me
To forgive straight from the heart
But the memories of pain
Makes it hard for me to say
I forgive you from my heart
poem by Kaila George
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My Lady's Tears, John Dowland's Third and Last Book of Songs or Airs
I SAW my Lady weep,
And Sorrow proud to be advanced so
In those fair eyes where all perfections keep.
Her face was full of woe;
But such a woe (believe me) as wins more hearts
Than Mirth can do with her enticing parts.
Sorrow was there made fair,
And Passion wise; Tears a delightful thing;
Silence beyond all speech, a wisdom rare:
She made her sighs to sing,
And all things with so sweet a sadness move
As made my heart at once both grieve and love.
O fairer than aught else
The world can show, leave off in time to grieve!
Enough, enough: your joyful look excels:
Tears kill the heart, believe.
O strive not to be excellent in woe,
Which only breeds your beauty's overthrow.
Grieve Not
grieve not
for what God has taken away
from you
grieve not
for what you will miss for another
hundred days
God knows each missing lock of
the hair
and for love God replaces what was
missing
with a thousand loves
For how can God ever
see a tear falling from your eyes
without giving it
a replacement of a rain of joy
sometime
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Grieve Not
Grieve not for me that I, have stepped outside the pale.
Man's death is not a void, a thick congeal of night.
The ground whereon I stand, is just beyond the veil;
A firmament of soul, illumined by the Light.
Grieve not for me that, I transcend this human dream,
For I ascend above, the tumult, din and blare.
Come visit my gravesite, as often as you deem,
You'll visit my remains, but I will be elsewhere.
Death is disunion, a spiritual flight, of soul from sense.
(An Alexandrine)
poem by Lynn W. Petty
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The Wife A-Lost
1 Since I noo mwore do zee your fe{'a}ce,
Up ste{'a}rs or down below,
I'll zit me in the lwonesome ple{'a}ce,
Where flat-bough'd beech do grow;
Below the beeches' bough, my love,
Where you did never come,
An' I don't look to meet ye now,
As I do look at hwome.
Since you noo mwore be at my zide,
In walks in zummer het,
I'll goo alwone where mist do ride,
Drough trees a-drippèn wet;
Below the ra{'i}n-wet bough, my love,
Where you did never come,
An' I don't grieve to miss ye now,
As I do grieve at hwome.
Since now bezide my dinner-bwoard
Your va{'i}ce do never sound,
I'll eat the bit I can avword,
A-vield upon the ground;
Below the darksome bough, my love,
Where you did never dine,
An' I don't grieve to miss ye now,
As I at hwome do pine.
Since I do miss your va{'i}ce an' fe{'a}ce
In pra{'y}er at eventide,
I'll pray wi' woone sad va{'i}ce vor gre{'a}ce
To goo where you do bide;
Above the tree an' bough, my love,
Where you be gone avore,
An' be a-w{'a}itèn vor me now,
To come vor evermwore.
poem by William Barnes
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The Penitent
I had a little Sorrow,
Born of a little Sin,
I found a room all damp with gloom
And shut us all within;
And, "Little Sorrow, weep," said I,
"And, Little Sin, pray God to die,
And I upon the floor will lie
And think how bad I've been!"
Alas for pious planning—
It mattered not a whit!
As far as gloom went in that room,
The lamp might have been lit!
My little Sorrow would not weep,
My little Sin would go to sleep—
To save my soul I could not keep
My graceless mind on it!
So I got up in anger,
And took a book I had,
And put a ribbon on my hair
To please a passing lad,
And, "One thing there's no getting by—
I've been a wicked girl," said I:
"But if I can't be sorry, why,
I might as well be glad!"
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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The dead in heaven is too happy to grieve for indignities to his corpse; the dead in hell has too much else to grieve for.
Wife A-Lost, The
Since I noo mwore do zee your fe{"a}ce,
Up ste{"a}rs or down below,
I'll zit me in the lwonesome ple{"a}ce,
Where flat-bough'd beech do grow;
Below the beeches' bough, my love,
Where you did never come,
An' I don't look to meet ye now,
As I do look at hwome.
Since you noo mwore be at my zide,
In walks in zummer het,
I'll goo alwone where mist do ride,
Drough trees a-drippèn wet;
Below the ra{"i}n-wet bough, my love,
Where you did never come,
An' I don't grieve to miss ye now,
As I do grieve at hwome.
Since now bezide my dinner-bwoard
Your va{"i}ce do never sound,
I'll eat the bit I can avword,
A-vield upon the ground;
Below the darksome bough, my love,
Where you did never dine,
An' I don't grieve to miss ye now,
As I at hwome do pine.
Since I do miss your va{"i}ce an' fe{"a}ce
In pra{"y}er at eventide,
I'll pray wi' woone sad va{"i}ce vor gre{"a}ce
To goo where you do bide;
Above the tree an' bough, my love,
Where you be gone avore,
An' be a-w{"a}itèn vor me now,
To come vor evermwore.
poem by William Barnes
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Time 4 Me 2 Grieve
I understand why you had to leave,
my mind blocked out that you had to depart,
I have massive distress in my heart,
my soul states it is time for the tears and fears,
for now it's time to grieve.
I am crippled by the things I normally love to do,
how can I be that comic, dancer, or singer
if I can't hear or see you?
You know I am not good with good-byes,
this is tearing me apart not be able to see that
protective tenderness that shone within your eyes.
If only one time, in person, I could see that radiant smile
that was always on your beautifully loving face,
yes it is embedded in my heart,
unselfishly I close eyes, a clear visual comes into view,
you're not sufferring,
your smiling that precious smile,
your so very happy
you're now reunited with all the hearts you once had to grieve,
because they also had to depart and leave you.
I love you Momma,
forever in my heart from our very start.
Doris Weischedel
Sunrise: July 9 1930
Sunset: July 3 2007
poem by Linda I. Weischedel
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