Navigating the difficult task of selecting readings for a funeral or memorial service can be challenging. Poetry, with its unique ability to articulate profound emotions and universal human experiences, offers solace and a meaningful way to honor a life lived. Finding the best poems for funerals requires looking for verses that resonate with the departed, bring comfort to mourners, and reflect the dignity and depth of the occasion. This curated selection draws from various poets and styles, aiming to provide options that speak to themes of remembrance, peace, love, and the continuation of spirit.
Contents
Close up image of lit candles
Poetry can serve as a bridge, connecting the living to cherished memories and offering perspectives on loss that feel both personal and universal. Whether seeking a traditional reading or something more contemporary, the poems here have been chosen for their emotional depth and suitability for a funeral setting.
Remember
Christina Rossetti
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann’d:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.
This sonnet offers a poignant reflection on remembrance after death. The speaker asks to be remembered but ultimately prioritizes the happiness of the loved one over their own memory. It’s a selfless plea that resonates deeply at a funeral, acknowledging the pain of loss while encouraging a future where grief doesn’t overshadow joy. The poem provides a comforting thought that true connection transcends physical presence.
Funeral Blues
W. H. Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message ‘He is Dead’.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Auden’s powerful elegy captures the overwhelming, world-stopping nature of profound grief. Its dramatic hyperbole expresses the immense void left by the departed, suggesting that the world itself should cease in mourning. While intensely sorrowful, its raw honesty can be validating for those experiencing acute loss. It speaks to a love so central that its absence feels apocalyptic, a feeling many can connect with when mourning a beloved partner or central figure in their life.
‘Do not stand at my grave and weep’
Mary Elizabeth Frye
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.
This widely popular poem offers a comforting perspective on death, suggesting that the spirit of the loved one is not confined to a grave but is present in the natural world. Its simple, accessible language and hopeful message make it a frequently chosen reading. It provides a sense of continuity and presence, helping mourners feel that their loved one lives on in the beauty surrounding them, rather than being lost forever. It’s a gentle reminder that love and connection endure.
Those Winter Sundays
Robert Hayden
Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love’s austere and lonely offices?
Hayden’s poem is a moving tribute to the quiet, often unappreciated acts of love within a family, particularly from a parent figure. It’s not explicitly about death but serves beautifully at a funeral to honor a parent or grandparent by reflecting on the selfless sacrifices they made. The concluding lines, “What did I know, what did I know / of love’s austere and lonely offices?” are particularly poignant, expressing a common realization after loss: the depth of love shown through actions that were perhaps overlooked at the time. This poem resonates with themes often found in discussions of society lyrics, highlighting the complex dynamics within families and communities.
Music
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory—
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the belovèd’s bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
Shelley’s short lyric uses sensory experiences to convey how the essence of something beautiful lingers after its physical form is gone. Applying this metaphor to a person, the poem suggests that the thoughts, impact, and love of the departed continue to exist and affect those left behind. It’s a gentle and elegant way to express the enduring nature of influence and affection, offering a sense of continued connection rather than absolute finality.
Epitaph On A Friend
Robert Burns
An honest man here lies at rest,
The friend of man, the friend of truth,
The friend of age, and guide of youth:
Few hearts like his, with virtue warm’d,
Few heads with knowledge so inform’d;
If there’s another world, he lives in bliss;
If there is none, he made the best of this.
Burns’ epitaph is a straightforward, admiring tribute to a virtuous individual. It celebrates honesty, kindness, and wisdom, qualities valued in any community. The final lines offer a philosophical comfort – whether in an afterlife or simply through the positive impact made on earth, the good person’s life had value and led to a form of peace or fulfillment. It’s a good choice for honoring someone known for their character and positive influence.
Yes
Tess Gallagher
Now we are like that flat cone of sand
in the garden of the Silver Pavilion in Kyoto
designed to appear only in moonlight.
Do you want me to mourn?
Do you want me to wear black?
Or like moonlight on whitest sand
to use your dark, to gleam, to shimmer?
I gleam. I mourn.
Gallagher’s poem uses the striking image of a moon-viewing garden feature to explore how grief can transform sorrow into a different kind of light or beauty. It challenges the conventional expectations of mourning (“wear black”) and suggests that the absence (“your dark”) can paradoxically illuminate or cause the bereaved person to “gleam.” The final two short lines acknowledge both the sorrow (“I mourn”) and the unexpected resilience or reflection (“I gleam”), capturing the complex, often contradictory nature of grief.
No Time
Billy Collins
In a rush this weekday morning,
I tap the horn as I speed past the cemetery
where my parents are buried
side by side beneath a slab of smooth granite.
Then, all day, I think of him rising up
to give me that look
of knowing disapproval
while my mother calmly tells him to lie back down.
Billy Collins brings his characteristic accessible style and gentle humor to the theme of parental memory after death. The poem captures a common modern experience – rushing past significant places – and contrasts it with the enduring, vivid presence of parental personalities in one’s mind. It offers a touching, slightly humorous, and very relatable depiction of how our loved ones, even gone, remain active figures in our internal lives. It’s a good choice for a funeral where a less formal, more personal tone is desired. Some of the best poems for recitation in English often come from contemporary poets like Collins, whose clear language makes them easy to connect with.
Crossing the Bar
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.
Tennyson’s famous poem uses the metaphor of a ship crossing a sandbar from a harbor out to the open sea to represent the soul’s journey from life into death. The speaker expresses a calm acceptance of this transition, hoping for a peaceful departure free from sadness or fear (“no moaning,” “no sadness of farewell”). The final lines, expressing hope to see the “Pilot face to face,” offer a spiritual perspective on meeting a guiding force (often interpreted as God) after death. Its serene tone makes it a popular choice for many funeral services.
Holy Sonnets: Death, be not proud
John Donne
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
Donne’s powerful sonnet confronts Death directly, stripping it of its power and presenting it not as a conqueror, but as a temporary transition to eternal life. It’s an assertive, faith-filled poem that can offer strength and defiance in the face of mortality. For those seeking a reading that emphasizes religious conviction and the promise of afterlife, this poem provides a robust declaration that death is ultimately defeated.
Holy Sonnets: Death, be not proud (Audre Lorde)
Audre Lorde
I
Is the total black, being spoken
From the earth’s inside.
There are many kinds of open.
How a diamond comes into a knot of flame
How a sound comes into a word, coloured
By who pays what for speaking.
Some words are open
Like a diamond on glass windows
Singing out within the crash of passing sun
Then there are words like stapled wagers
In a perforated book—buy and sign and tear apart—
And come whatever wills all chances
The stub remains
An ill-pulled tooth with a ragged edge.
Some words live in my throat
Breeding like adders. Others know sun
Seeking like gypsies over my tongue
To explode through my lips
Like young sparrows bursting from shell.
Some words
Bedevil me.
Love is a word another kind of open—
As a diamond comes into a knot of flame
I am black because I come from the earth’s inside
Take my word for jewel in your open light.
Audre Lorde’s poem, sharing a title with Donne’s but offering a very different exploration, delves into identity, voice, and expression. While not a traditional funeral poem, its themes of emergence, the power of words, and the complexity of identity (“I am black because I come from the earth’s inside”) can be relevant for a tribute that focuses on the unique voice and presence of the deceased, particularly in the context of cultural identity or activism. It speaks to the enduring resonance of a person’s truth and their impact on the world.
‘That it will never come again’
Emily Dickinson
That it will never come again
Is what makes life so sweet.
Believing what we don’t believe
Does not exhilarate.
That if it be, it be at best
An ablative estate —
This instigates an appetite
Precisely opposite.
Dickinson’s concise poem offers a characteristic paradox: the preciousness of life is amplified by its finite nature. The knowledge that moments, experiences, and ultimately life itself “will never come again” is what makes them “sweet.” While it touches on finality, the poem’s focus is on appreciating the present and past because of this understanding. It can be a thoughtful reading for someone who embraced life fully or for a service reflecting on the beauty and brevity of existence.
Requiem
Robert Louis Stevenson
Under the wide and starry sky
Dig the grave and let me lie:
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you ‘grave for me:
Here he lies where he long’d to be;
Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.
Stevenson’s own epitaph is a brief, peaceful acceptance of death and a sense of coming home or finding final rest. The imagery of the sailor returning from the sea and the hunter returning from the hill evokes a sense of a journey completed and labor ended. It’s a poem about finding peace and fulfillment in death, making it a calming and serene choice for a funeral or graveside service. It’s concise, clear, and offers a beautiful final image of rest.
Choosing the right poem for a funeral is a deeply personal decision. The best poems for funerals are those that offer comfort, reflect the spirit of the person being remembered, or articulate the complex emotions surrounding loss. Whether providing solace, celebrating a life, or offering a perspective on mortality, poetry remains a powerful tool for navigating grief and honoring memory.