Before I departed for my mini break at the weekend, I conducted the funeral ceremony for a wonderful old gentleman called Frank.
I met Frank earlier in the year, and immediately felt very comfortable with him - he was a lovely man to listen to. I just knew there were a host of stories within him - especially from his wartime experiences - but as with so many of his generation, he was so modest about his achievements...a sad day when the news came that he had passed away.
It was a privilege to look after his ceremony and as my tribute to him, I am including the poem we used at the ceremony here...
The Glory of Life
The Glory of Life is not that it
endures forever, but that, for a time, it includes so much that is beautiful.
It is a tree to those that grasp it,
and happy are all who retain it.
Its ways
are ways of pleasantness, and all its paths are peaceful.
We do not demand that the flower
shall never die, nor that the song shall never end.
Nor should we be angry with life because one day its beauty will be dust, its music silent, and all its laughter and tears forgotten.
Life, the reality, is ours; we should shape it as nobly as we can.
We will not linger, like timid
sailors in port, but will live dangerously, devoting ourselves with vigour to
what seems to us good, beautiful and true.
The glory of Life is Love. Unending.
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