The Funerall
Who ever comes to shroud me, do not harme
Nor question much
That subtile wreath of haire, which crowns my arme;
The mystery, the signe you must not touch,
For'tis my outward Soule,
Viceroy to that, which then to heaven being gone,
Will leave this to controule,
And keep these limbes, her Provinces, from dissolution.
For if the sinewie thread my braine lets fall
Through every part,
Can tye those parts, and make mee one of all;
These haires which upward grew, and strength and art
Have from a better braine,
Can better do'it; Except she meant that I
By this should know my pain,
As prisoners then are manacled, when they'are condemn'd to die.
What ere shee meant by'it, bury it with me,
For since I am
Loves martyr, it might breed idolatrie,
If into others hands these Reliques came;
As'twas humility
To afford to it all that a Soule can doe,
So,'tis some bravery,
That since you would save none of mee, I bury some of you.
poem by John Donne
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Related quotes
The Funeral
WHOEVER comes to shroud me, do not harm,
Nor question much,
That subtle wreath of hair, which crowns my arm;
The mystery, the sign, you must not touch;
For 'tis my outward soul,
Viceroy to that, which then to heaven being gone,
Will leave this to control
And keep these limbs, her provinces, from dissolution.
For if the sinewy thread my brain lets fall
Through every part
Can tie those parts, and make me one of all,
Those hairs which upward grew, and strength and art
Have from a better brain,
Can better do 't; except she meant that I
By this should know my pain,
As prisoners then are manacled, when they're condemn'd to die.
Whate'er she meant by it, bury it with me,
For since I am
Love's martyr, it might breed idolatry,
If into other hands these relics came.
As 'twas humility
To afford to it all that a soul can do,
So 'tis some bravery,
That since you would have none of me, I bury some of you.
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Song On A Sigh
O tell mee, tell, thou god of wynde,
In all thy cavernes canst thou finde
A vapor, fume, a gale or blast
Like to a sigh which love doth cast?
Can any whirlwynde in thy vault
Plough upp earth's breast with like assault?
Goe wynde and blowe thou where thou please,
Yea breathles leave mee to my ease.
If thou be wynde, O then refrayne
From wracking whiles I thus complayne:
If thou be wynde then light thou art,
Yet O! how heavy is my hart!
If thou be wynde then purge thy way,
Lett cares that clogge thy force obey.
Goe wynde and blow thou where thou please,
Yea breathles leave mee to my ease.
Those blasts of sighing raised are
By influence of my bright starre;
Their Æolus from whom they came
Is love that straynes to blow his flame,
The powerfull sway of whose behest
Makes hearth and bellowes of my breast.
Goe wynde and blowe then where thou please,
Yea breathles leave mee to my ease.
Know 'tis a wynde that longs to blowe
Upon my Saint wherere shee goe,
And stealing through her fanne it beares
Soft errands to her lippes and eares,
And then perhapps a passage makes
Downe to her heart when breath shee takes.
Goe wynde and blowe then where thou please,
Yea breathles leave mee to my ease.
Yes, gentle gale, trye that againe,
O doe not passe from mee in vayne,
Goe mingle with her soule divine
Ingendring spiritts like to mine:
Yea take my soule along with thee
To worke a stronger sympathie:
Goe wynde and blowe thou where thou please,
Yea breathles leave mee to my ease.
My soule, before my grosser part,
Thus to her heaven should departe,
And where the body cannott lye
On wings of wynde my soule shall flye:
If not one soule our bodies joyne,
One body shall our soules confine,
Goe wynde and blowe thou where thou please,
Yea breathles leave mee to my ease.
poem by William Strode
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On The Death Of Dr. Lancton President Of Maudlin College
When men for injuryes unsatisfy'd,
For hopes cutt off, for debts not fully payd,
For legacies in vain expected, mourne
Over theyr owne respects within the urne,
Races of tears all striveing first to fall
As frequent are as eye and funerall;
Then high swolne sighes drawne in and sent out strong
Seeme to call back the soule or goe along.
Goodness is seldome such a theam of woe
Unless to her owne tribe some one or two;
But here's a man, (alas a shell of man!)
Whose innocence, more white than silver swan,
Now finds a streame of teares; such perfect greif
That in the traine of mourners hee is cheife
Who lives the greatest gainer; and would faine
Bee now prefer'd unto his loss againe.
The webb of nerves with subtill branches spred
Over the little world, are in theyr head
Scarce so united as in him were knitt
All his dependants: Hee that strives to sitt
So lov'd of all must bee a man as square
As vertues selfe; which those that fly and feare
Can never hate. How seldome have we seene
Such store of flesh joyn'd with so little sin?
His body was not greater than his soule,
Whose limbs were vertues able to controule
All grudg of sloth: and as the body's weight
Hal'd to the centre; so the soule as light
Heav'd upward to her goale. This civill jarre
Could not hold out, but made them part as farre
As earth and heaven: from whence the one shall come
To make her mate more fresh, less cumbersome.
After so sound a sleepe, so sweet a rest,
And both shall then appeare so trimly drest
As freinds that goe to meet: the body shall
Then seeme a soule, the soule Angellicall:
A beautious smile shall passe from that to this,
The joyning soule shall then the body kisse
With its owne lipps: so great shall be the store
Of joy and love that now thei'l part no more;
Such hope hath dust! besides which happines
Death hath not made his earthly share the lesse,
Or quite bereft him of his honors here,
But added more; for liveing hee did steere
The fellowes only; but since hee is dead
Hee's made a president unto theyr head.
poem by William Strode
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Bury Me Now!
bury me now,
at the feet of your freedom.
bury me now,
in the bowl of your hunger.
bury me now,
in the healing balm.
bury me now,
in the hand that comforts.
bury me now,
at the foot of the birthing bed.
bury me now,
in the march for peace.
bury me now,
let my body be the bridge.
bury me now,
and give names to the faces!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Bury My Soul
if i died today
it would take my pain away
no more in the way
with no more to say
so bury my soul
losing control
losing my hold
bury my soul
lost control
lost a hold
so bury my soul
take my mind away from the misery
take my heart away from the mystery
so bury my soul
losing control
losing my hold
bury my soul
lost control
lost a hold
so bury my soul
i looked into your eyes
and i saw all the lies
my hate is now my fate
the more i try
the more i die
the more i die inside
so bury my soul
losing control
losing my hold
bury my soul
lost control
lost a hold
so bury my soul
i left to rest my soul
i buried my heart in the dark hole
turn the page
begin the new chapter
i surrender
i surrender my soul
so bury my soul
losing control
losing my hold
bury my soul
lost control
lost a hold
so bury my soul
bury my soul
bury my soul
poem by Bobby Butterfield
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Bury Me In My Home
Let the soul creep in my shadow
Wake me up when you’re gray
Eat my meal, throw the ladle
Shine the sun, cast them away
Dig the hole in the ground
Bury me in my home
Break the bells, call no funeral
Don’t let them say the prayer
Say me bye, like my humor
Never become them, be my heir
You’d lose the foes you found
Bury me in my home
Save yourself with the sword
Avoid the burden of the shield
Fight them in the name of Lord
Follow the way, you can’t see
Dig the grave, make no sound
Bury me in my home
Face the demise, lose the war
Hug it with your pain
Keep your soul, not lose it far
Feel the surge of dying again
Do the job, you are bound to
Bury me in my home...
The zone that I own
Bury me in my home...
Bury me in my home...
poem by Usman Hanif
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In Commendation Of Musick
When whispering straynes doe softly steale
With creeping passion through the hart,
And when at every touch wee feele
Our pulses beate and beare a part;
When thredds can make
A hartstring shake
Philosophie
Can scarce deny
The soule consists of harmony.
When unto heavenly joy wee feyne
Whatere the soule affecteth most,
Which onely thus wee can explayne
By musick of the winged hoast,
Whose layes wee think
Make starres to winke,
Philosophie
Can scarce deny
Our soules consist of harmony.
O lull mee, lull mee, charming ayre,
My senses rock with wonder sweete;
Like snowe on wooll thy fallings are,
Soft, like a spiritts, are thy feete:
Greife who need feare
That hath an eare?
Down lett him lye
And slumbring dye,
And change his soule for harmony.
poem by William Strode
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Holy Sonnet VI: This Is My Playes Last Scene
This is my playes last scene, here heavens appoint
My pilgrimages last mile; and my race
Idly, yet quickly runne, hath this last pace,
My spans last inch, my minutes latest point,
And gluttonous death, will instantly unjoynt
My body, and soule, and I shall sleepe a space,
But my'ever-waking part shall see that face,
Whose feare already shakes my every joynt;
Then, as my soule, to'heaven her first seate, takes flight,
And earth-borne body, in the earth shall dwell,
So, fall my sinnes, that all may have their right,
To where they're bred, and would presse me, to hell.
Impute me righteous, thus purg'd of evill,
For thus I leave the world, the flesh, the devill.
poem by John Donne
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Dig Your Grave
We were shootin' at a mound of dirt.
Well nothing was broken, nothing was hurt.
But I probably really should have been at work.
But if my freetime's gone, would you promise me this?
That you will please bury me with it?
Please bury me with it!
Well sure as planets come, I know that they end.
And if I'm here when that happens, will you promise me this my friend?
Please bury me with it!
I just don't need none of that Mad Max bullshit.
Well the suit got tight and it split at the seams.
But I kept it out of habit and I kept it really clean.
But if it's getting' faded, if it's runnin' outta thread,
Could you just do this for me my friend?
And please just please bury me with it?
Please bury me with it!
Well we moved to the left and moved to the right.
And sure as hell we stayed out almost every single night.
But if the party's over, if the fun has to end,
could you do this for me my friend?
Would you just please bury me with it?
Please bury me with it!
Good news for people who love bad news.
We've lost the plot and we just can't choose.
We are hummingbirds who are just not willing to move.
And there's good news for people who love bad news.
We are hummingbirds who've lost the plot and we will not move.
We have good news for anyone who loves bad news.
We were aiming for the moon. We were shooting at the stars.
But the kids were just shooting at the busses and the cars.
So don't drink the water, don't you breathe the air.
If it's gotten to that point then I have to declare:
That you please bury me with it!
Please bury me with it!
Well fads they come and fads they go.
And God I love that rock and roll!
Well the point was fast but it was too blunt to miss.
Life handed us a paycheck, we said, "We worked harder than this!"
Please bury me with it!
Please bury me with it!
We are hummingbirds who are just not going to move.
And there's good news for people who love bad news.
We are hummingbirds who've lost the plot and we well not move.
We have great news for anyone who loves bad news.
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bury Me With It
We were shootin' at a mound of dirt.
Well nothing was broken, nothing was hurt.
But I probably really should have been at work.
But if my freetime's gone, would you promise me this?
That you will please bury me with it?
Please bury me with it!
Well sure as planets come, I know that they end.
And if I'm here when that happens, will you promise me this my friend?
Please bury me with it!
I just don't need none of that Mad Max bullshit.
Well the suit got tight and it split at the seams.
But I kept it out of habit and I kept it really clean.
But if it's getting' faded, if it's runnin' outta thread,
Could you just do this for me my friend?
And please just please bury me with it?
Please bury me with it!
Well we moved to the left and moved to the right.
And sure as hell we stayed out almost every single night.
But if the party's over, if the fun has to end,
could you do this for me my friend?
Would you just please bury me with it?
Please bury me with it!
Good news for people who love bad news.
We've lost the plot and we just can't choose.
We are hummingbirds who are just not willing to move.
And there's good news for people who love bad news.
We are hummingbirds who've lost the plot and we will not move.
We have good news for anyone who loves bad news.
We were aiming for the moon. We were shooting at the stars.
But the kids were just shooting at the busses and the cars.
So don't drink the water, don't you breathe the air.
If it's gotten to that point then I have to declare:
That you please bury me with it!
Please bury me with it!
Well fads they come and fads they go.
And God I love that rock and roll!
Well the point was fast but it was too blunt to miss.
Life handed us a paycheck, we said, "We worked harder than this!"
Please bury me with it!
Please bury me with it!
We are hummingbirds who are just not going to move.
And there's good news for people who love bad news.
We are hummingbirds who've lost the plot and we well not move.
We have great news for anyone who loves bad news.
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On The Death Of A Twin
Where are yee now, Astrologers, that looke
For petty accidents in Heavens booke?
Two Twins, to whom one Influence gave breath,
Differ in more than Fortune, Life and Death.
While both were warme (for that was all they were
Unlesse some feeble cry sayd Life was there
By wavering change of health they seem'd to trie
Which of the two should live, for one must die.
As if one Soule, allotted to susteine
The lumpe, which afterwards was cutt in twain,
Now servde them both: whose limited restraynt
From double vertue made them both to faynt:
But when that common Soule away should flie,
Death killing one, expected both should die:
Shee hitt, and was deceivde: that other parte
Went to supply the weake survivers heart:
So Death, where shee was cruell, seemde most milde:
She aymed at two, and killde but halfe a childe.
poem by William Strode
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Heaven Only Knows
(paul kennerley)
Every night its the same
I feel your heart turn cold as rain
And know that youll be gone again
I hear the front door close
You say you got to go downtown
I guess theres someone else youve found
So why youre still coming round
Heaven only knows
Heaven only knows just why loving you should make me cry
Make me feel like I could die
Thats the way it goes
Heaven only ever sees
How loves made a fool of me
I guess thats how its meant to be but
Heaven only knows
Ive heard it said that talk is cheap
But still your words they cut so deep
Lay me crying in my sleep
And the pain just grows
I dont know whos right or wrong
But all we had is dead and gone
So why you keep me hanging on
Heaven only knows
Heaven only knows just why loving you should make me cry
Make me feel like I could die
Thats the way it goes
Heaven only ever sees
How loves made a fool of me
I guess thats how its meant to be but
Heaven only knows
Im going to turn and walk away
Theres nothing left for me to say
It wouldnt change things anyway
Though, I suppose
The love I gave was always true
Well, I dont know what else to do
And how Ill ever get over you
Heaven only knows
Heaven only knows just why loving you should make me cry
Make me feel like I could die
Thats the way it goes
Heaven only ever sees
How loves made a fool of me
I guess thats how its meant to be but
Heaven only knows
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On The Yong Baronett Portman Dying Of An Impostume In's Head
Is Death so cunning now that all her blowe
Aymes at the heade? Doth now her wary Bowe
Make surer worke than heertofore? The steele
Slew warlike heroes onely in the heele.
New found out slights, when men themselves begin
To be theyr proper Fates by new found sinne.
Tis cowardize to make a wound so sure;
No Art in killing where no Art can cure.
Was it for hate of learning that she smote
This upper shoppe where all the Muses wrought?
Learning shall crosse her drift, and duly trie
All wayes and meanes of immortalitie.
Because her heade was crusht, doth shee desire
Our equall shame? In vayne she doth aspire.
No: noe: Wee know where ere shee make a breach
Her poysened Sting onely the Heele can reach.
Looke on the Soule of man, the very Heart;
The Head itselfe is but a lower parte:
Yet hath shee straynde her utmost tyranny,
And done her worst in that she came so high.
Had she reservde this stroke for haughty men,
For politique Contrivers; justly then
The Punishment were matcht with the offence:
But when Humility and Innocence
So indiscreetly in the Heade are hitt,
Death hath done Murther, and shall die for itt:
Thinke it no Favour showne because the Braine
Is voyde of sence, and therefore free from payne.
Thinke it noe kindness when so stealingly
He rather seemde to jest away than die,
And like that Innocent, the Widdows childe
Cryde out, My head, my head: and so it dyde.
Thinke it was rather double cruelty,
Slaughter intended on his Name, that Hee
Whose thoughts were nothing taynted, nothing vayne,
Might seeme to hide Corruption in his brayne.
How easy might this Blott bee wipte away
If any Pen his worth could open lay?
For which those Harlott-prayses, which wee reare
In common dust, as much too slender are
As great for others. Boasting Elegies
Must here bee dumbe. Desert that overweighs
All our Reward stoppes all our Prayse: lest wee
Might seeme to give alike to Them and Thee:
Wherfore an humble Verse, and such a strayne
As mine will hide the truth while others fayne.
poem by William Strode
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Consolatorium, Ad Parentes
Lett her parents then confesse
That they beleeve her happinesse,
Which now they question. Thinke as you
Lent her the world, Heaven lent her you:
And is it just then to complayne
When each hath but his owne againe?
Then thinke what both your glories are
In her preferment: for tis farre
Nobler to gett a Saint, and beare
A childe to Heaven than an Heyre
To a large Empire. Thinke beside
Shee dyde not yong, but livde a Bride.
Your best wishes for her good
Were but to see her well bestowde:
Was shee not so? Shee marryed to
The heyre of all things: who did owe
Her infant Soule, and bought it too.
Nor was shee barren: markt you not
Those pretty little Graces, that
Play'd round about her sicke bedde; three
Th' eldst Faith, Hope, & Charity.
Twere pretty bigge ones, and the same
That cryde so on theyr Fathers name.
The yongst is gone with Her: the two
Eldest stay to comfort you,
And little though they bee, they can
Master the biggest foes of man.
Lastly thinke that Hir abode
With you was some fewe years boarde;
After hir marriage: now shee's gone
Home, royally attended on:
And if you had Elisha's sight
To see the number of her bright
Attendants thither; or Paul's rapt sprite
To see her Welcome there; why then,
Wish if you could Her here agen.
Ime sure you could not: but all passion
Would loose itselfe in admiration,
And strong longings to be there
Where, cause shee is, you mourn for Her
poem by William Strode
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Only Tears
Only tears are meant to fall
Only once and that is all
And when you start to lose the fight
And nothing else will make it right
Only hearts are meant to break
And when you make that last mistake
And everything you tried to say
But all the words got in the way
Only God can hear you now
When you make that final vow
Say the words and say them loud
Say the words that make you proud
And when you lose someone you depend upon
Only tears will fall
And when you need a friend I will send you one
Only tears are meant to fall
Only tears are meant to fall
Only once and that is all
Only tears are meant to fall
Only once and that is all
Only tears are meant to fall
Only once and that is all
Only tears are meant to fall
Only once and that is all
song performed by by Omd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lets Fall In Love
We might have been meant for each other
To be or not to be, let our hearts discover
I have a feeling, its a feeling Im concealing - I dont know why
Its just a mental, incidental, sentimental - alibi
But I adore you, so strong for you
Why go on stalling, I am falling, love is calling - why be shy
Lets fall in love
Why shouldnt we fall in love
Our hearts are made of it, lets take a chance
Why be afraid of it
Lets close our eyes
And make our own paradise
Little we know of it, still we can try
To make a go of it
We might have been meant for each other
To be or not to be, let our hearts discover
Lets fall in love
Why shouldnt we fall in love
Now is the time for it, while we are young
Lets fall in love
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chi
Pain!
Buried so far away. into my life of nothing
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
I am so high always. burying my life so slowly.
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
It opens my mind to feelings. cant face bottom without something.
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
Re-entering my head, feeling like Im god
With the world around me, cant you feel this pain?
Ripping through my heart!
Screaming through my mind!
Nothing I can kill!
Screaming a...
Lie! i! am!
Cant you tear my eyes out?
Cant you take my heart?
Away to heart
Good-bye...
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole this big
So I dig a hole this...
Pain, pain, pain...
song performed by by Korn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On The Death Of Mrs. Mary Neudham
As sinn makes gross the soule and thickens it
To fleshy dulness, so the spotless white
Of virgin pureness made thy flesh as cleere
As others soules: thou couldst not tarry heere
All soule in both parts: and what could it bee
The Resurrection could bestow on thee,
Allready glorious? thine Innocence
(Thy better shroude) sent thee as pure from hence
As saints shall rise: but hee whose bounty may
Enlighten the greate sunn with double day,
And make it more outshine itselfe than now
It can the moone, shall crowne thy varnish'd brow
With light above that sunn: when thou shalt bee
No lower in thy place than Majesty:
Crown'd with a Virgin's wreath, outshining there
The Saints as much as thou did'st mortalls heere.
Bee this thy hope; and whilst thy ashes ly
Asleepe in death, dreame of Eternity.
poem by William Strode
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Nothing New
There will always be war and rumors of war
History and actions are proof to that
What is happening now has happened before
People will always die, and fight and will combat,
Man and woman are meant to suffer and cry
That is the truth and it becomes so transparent
Tears are with them from their birth until they die
But they are meant to love, and then become a parent,
The happiest day in any parent's life
It would be the day that their child is born
A miraculous gift that is given to a man and his wife
And it is given without sadness, shame or scorn,
Sadly the saddest day in any parent's life
Is when they must say goodbye and bury a child
They must live with the sadness and that strife
As from the loss of their child they are beguiled,
An heartbreaking moment in any child's day
Is when they must say goodbye and bury a parent
They weeps their tears their clouds are now gray
Their youth is over and now to them it is apparent,
In the times of peace a son buries his dad
In times of war a father must bury his son
Sadly these deaths occur and it will make one mad
But as they say, there is nothing new under the sun.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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The Proposition
You cant have the flower without the root
You cant have the fire without the soot
Even a stripper needs her red tasseled suit
And we were meant to be
In every war the north needs the south
And everyone knows all assholes have a mouth
Without mystery what would writers talk about
And we were meant to be
An apple needs pits the way melons need seed
Your foot needs your arm and your arm needs your knee
And one of these days I know you will need me
We were meant to be, ooohhh, we were meant to be
Youre mothers an ogre your fathers a scamp
You wont see my parents honored on any stamp
But just like a bulb screws into a lamp
We were meant to be
The way the aids needs a vaccine, somewhere a vaccine needs
Aids, the way a victim needs life, a life needs to be saved
And out of all of this will come a better way
We were meant to be
So you can go to europe, los angeles or mars
You can stand on a building throwing cinder blocks on cars
You can practice deep voodoo, but like me youll see
We were meant to be, we were meant to be
We were meant to be
We were meant to be
We were meant to be
We were meant to be
We were meant to be
We were meant to be
We were meant to be
We were meant to be
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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