Death

The rooms and days we wandered through

Shrink in my mind to one--there you

Lie quite absorbed by peace--the calm

Which life could not provide is balm

In death. Unseen by me, you look

Past bed and stairs and half-read book

Eternally upon your home,

The end of pain, the left alone.

I have no friend, or intercessor,

No psychopomp or true confessor

But only you who know my heart

In every cramped and devious part--

Then take my hand and lead me out,

the sky is overcast by doubt,

The time has come, I listen for

Your words of comfort at the door,

O guide me through the shoals of fear--

'Furchte dich nicht, ich bin dei dir.' *

* 'Do not be afraid I am with you.'

Peter Porter 'An Exequy'.