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Sunday, 2 June 2013

Funeral for a Friend



David Cox, ‘A Welsh Funeral, Betwys-y-Coed’ c.1847-50


Funeral for a Friend

As I watched a wholly good man’s body
laid into the ground after the requiem,
the missa pro defunctis, I thought how
his kind seem all but extinct now, a priest
with such an honest heart, like the Roman
ring he always wore, pure gold, intagio,
a gem engraved in pastelled cameo.
For his ways were truly mellow, moderate
and kind, tender but always unobtrusive
whose lips had brushed no others’ mouths, only
the pax, the holy kiss of peace at High Mass
in his sacred monastery.  As the

crucifix was laid upon him I considered

his life, forever enclosed, his spirit
ruled by his  religion and its cloistered
celibacy.  A force for good passed with
him on that day and as it rose we were
left miserable and marooned in our

disillusioned, aimless orphan of a world.


Cait O’Connor

4 comments:

  1. Cait, you've written well about this fine man.

    Though I did not know him, I still felt tears in my eyes as I bid him my own farewell.

    xo

    ReplyDelete
  2. Beautiful. Those men are rare and you are lucky to have known one.

    ReplyDelete

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