Text by Robert Burns (1759-1796)
O my Luve's like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June:
O my Luve's like a melodie
That's sweetly played in tune!
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till all the seas gang dry.
Till all the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only Luve,
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Though it were ten thousand mile.
Text attributed to Mary Frye (1905-2004)
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 sun on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there; I did not die.
text by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830-1894)
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 planned:
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.
From the poem, "Lines Composed in a Wood on a Windy Day," by Anne Brontë (1820-1849)
My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring,
And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze;
For, above, and around me, the wild wind is roaring
Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas.
The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing,
The bare trees are tossing their branches on high;
The dead leaves beneath them are merrily dancing,
The white clouds are scudding across the blue sky.
I wish I could see how the ocean is lashing
The foam of its billows to whirlwinds of spray,
I wish I could see how its proud waves are dashing
And hear the wild roar of their thunder today!
Text by Brad & Brian Burrill (b. 1970, b. 1968)
Starry night, long ago
Shepherds wake to behold...Noel
Night is cold, stable bare
Birthing cry, hope is there...Noel
O'er that place shone a star
Guiding men from afar...Noel
Come together quietly and
Remember who was sent for thee
Enduring love will always be...Noel
Love and peace, hope and joy
Humble birth, baby boy...Noel
From "the Tempest," by William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Ding-dong!
Hark! Now I hear them--ding-dong, bell.