Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

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.

by Mary Elizabeth Frye

Comments (3)

Brilliant, convincing handling of pentameter. With his friend Bishop, may be the greatest twentieth-century voice.
I first encountered this poem as a frontspiece to Robert Stone's novel, 'A Hall of Mirrors.' Interestingly, Stone took his title from the line that he quoted as, 'And candles gutter in a hall of mirrors.' Does anybody know how he came to quote the line this way? It's an interesting image, but not, perhaps, Lowell's.
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