Where laurel hedges hide the coal and coke
Our lawn-surrounded crematorium lies;
And every half-an-hour a puff of smoke
Shows what we loved dissolving in the skies-
Dear hands, dear feet, dear laughter-lighted eyes
And smiling lips which waited for a joke.
Now no one seems to know quite what to say:
Friends are so altered by the passing years-
Well anyhow it’s not so cold today
And thus we dissipate our fears.
I am the Resurrection and the Life!
Strong, sly, and painful, doubt inserts its knife.
Sir John Betjeman