When I am dead, my dearest,_x000D_ _x000D_ Sing no sad songs for me
Interpretation
The quote suggests that after death, one should not mourn, but rather celebrate life.
Christina Rossetti's quote reflects a desire for a joyful remembrance rather than a sorrowful lamentation after one's passing. It highlights the importance of cherishing memories and celebrating life instead of dwelling on loss, encouraging a perspective that embraces positivity even in the face of mortality.
In practice
This quote could be used in a eulogy to emphasize a celebratory rather than mournful approach to remembering someone.
When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet: And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on as if in pain: And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply I may forget.
We must not look at goblin men, We must not buy their fruits: Who knows upon what soil they fed Their hungry thirsty roots?
To her whose heart is my heart's quiet home,_x000D_ _x000D_ To my first Love, my Mother, on whose knee_x000D_ _x000D_ I learnt love-lore that is not troublesome.
Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live My very life again though cold in death; Come back to me in dreams, that I may give Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: Speak low, lean low, As long ago, my love, how long ago
Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart; My silent heart, lie still and break: Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed For a dream's sake.
I lock my door upon myself, And bar them out; but who shall wall Self from myself, most loathed of all?
I no longer knew whether it was raindrops or my own tears that were flowing down my cheeks, and I hated to have to drag along this relic of a sniveling child.
Life itself is the most wonderful fairy tale.
They're ugly, but those are the facts of life.
It is the secret life that sustains me now, and as I reach the top of that bridge I say it in a whisper, I say it as a prayer, as regret, and as praise. I can't tell you why I do it or what it means, but each night when I drive toward my southern home and my southern life, I whisper these words: 'Lowenstein, Lowenstein.
Last dance with Mary Jane_x000D_ One more time to kill the pain_x000D_ I feel summer creepin' in and I'm_x000D_ Tired of this town again
in a middle of a room stands a suicide sniffing a Paper rose smiling to a self "somewhere it is Spring and sometimes people are in real:imagine somewhere real flowers,but I can't imagine real flowers for if I could,they would somehow not Be real" (so he smiles smiling)"but I will not everywhere be real to you in a moment" The is blond with small hands "& everything is easier than I had guessed everything would be;even remembering the way who looked at whom first,anyhow dancing
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