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Death is nothing at all.

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by

Bailey schoenbeck

on 18 March 2015

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Transcript of Death is nothing at all.

Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner. All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again
*Henry Scott Holland
*born on January 27, 1847 and died on March 17, 1918
*Henry was Regius Professor of Divinity at the University of Oxford. He was also a canon of Christ Church, Oxford.
*He was born at Ledbury, Herefordshire
*Henry's father was George Henry Holland
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Scott_Holland
http://spartacus-educational.com/REholland.htm
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner. All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again
The most known poem from Henry Scott Holland was "Death is Nothing at All"
*Henry was not an outstanding student and he failed his entrance exam at Oxford University.
*Holland struggled academically until he came under the influence of Thomas Hill Green, the senior tutor in philosophy at Balliol.
"Death Is Nothing At All" By: Henry Scott Holland
Bailey Schoenbeck

Henry Scott Holland
was born on January 27, 1847 and died on March 17, 1918
Henry was Regius Professor of Divinity at the University of Oxford.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Scott_Holland
Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
I picked this poem because it shows why you should not grieve over a death, but to treat it as a friend moving away who you may not see for awhile. I see this poem as a reason not to act like they are gone but to be a long goodbye.
*i relate to this because when i lost my grandfather every one thought of him as "gone" or "passed away" when in reality he was just in a different form
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