Stop All the Clocks
Part 1 of this poem is particularly known for being read at the funeral in Four Weddings and a Funeral. You can see a clip here.
I
Stop all the clocks, cut off the
telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence
the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the
mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling
on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white
necks of the public
doves,
Let the traffic
policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My
working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my
song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every
one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the
ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any
good.
II
O the valley in the summer where I and my
John
Beside the deep river would walk on and on
While the
flowers at our feet and the birds up above
Argued so sweetly on
reciprocal love,
And I leaned on his shoulder; 'O Johnny, let's
play':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
O that Friday near Christmas as I well recall
When
we went to the Charity Matinee Ball,
The floor was so smooth and
the band was so loud
And Johnny so handsome I felt so
proud;
'Squeeze me tighter, dear Johnny, let's dance till it's
day':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
Shall I ever forget at the Grand Opera
When
music poured out of each wonderful star?
Diamonds and pearls they
hung dazzling down
Over each silver and golden silk gown;
'O
John I'm in heaven,' I whispered to say:
But he frowned like
thunder and he went away.
O but he was fair as a garden in flower,
As
slender and tall as the great Eiffel Tower,
When the waltz
throbbed out on the long promenade
O his eyes and his smile they
went straight to my heart;
'O marry me, Johnny, I'll love and
obey':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
O last night I dreamed of you, Johnny, my
lover,
You'd the sun on one arm and the moon on the other,
The
sea it was blue and the grass it was green,
Every star rattled a
round tambourine;
Ten thousand miles deep in a pit there I
lay:
But you frowned like thunder and you went away.
- WH Auden