Death Is Nothing

Henry Scott Holland
(1847-1918)

Death is nothing at all,
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Whatever we were to each, that we are still.
Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used.

Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
Let my name be the household word it always was.
Let it be spoken without effort.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was;
there is absolutely unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of your mind
because I am out of your sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval,
somewhere very near just around the corner...
All is well. Nothing is past, nothing is lost.

One brief moment and all will be as it was before,
only better, infinitely happier
and forever we will be one together.