Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone

W. H. Auden


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 crepe 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.

A.E. Housman's, Laws of God

The Laws of God, The Laws of Man

The laws of God, the laws of man
He may keep that will and can
Not I: Let God and man decree
Laws for themselves and not for me;

And if my ways are not as theirs
Let them mind their own affairs.
Their deeds I judge and most condemn
Yet when did I make laws for them?

Please yourselves, Say I, and they
Need only look the other way.
But no, they will not; they must still
Wrest their neighbor to their will,

And make me dance as they desire
With jail and gallows and hellfire
And how am I to face the odds
Of man's bedevilment and God's?

I, a stranger and afraid
In a world I never made
They will be master, right or wrong;
Though, both are foolish, both are strong

And since, my soul, we cannot flee
To Saturn or to Mercury
Keep we must, If we can
These foreign laws of God and man.

A.E. Housman