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Interment Prayers – Words of Comfort

 

Burial at Sea – Saying Goodbye

Prayers For Interment – Burials and Saying Goodbye

There are really no right words just words that my be comforting to your family at this difficult time. Just let us know your wishes and we will be happy to accommodate you in any manner we are able. Below are some simple poems and prayers for interment that may be appropriate. We have these prayers, as well as a bible, available on all our yachts.

If you have additional prayers for interment, please let us know.

We would love to include them here for other families.

When I am gone, release me – let me go
I have so many things to see and do.
You must not tie yourself to me with tears
Be happy that we had so many years
I gave you love, you can only guess how much you gave me in happiness
I thank you for the love each have shown
but now it is time I traveled alone
So grieve awhile for me if grieve you must,
then let your grief be comforted by trust
It is only for a while that we must part
so bless those memories within your heart.
I will not be far away, for life goes on.
so if you need me, call and I will come.
Though you cannot see or touch me, I will be near
And if you listen with your heart, you will hear
All of my love around you, soft and clear.
Then when you must come this way alone,
I will greet you with a smile and “Welcome Home”

Anonymous

We therefore commit his body to the deep,
to be turned into corruption,
looking for the resurrection of the body
(when the sea shall give up her dead),
and the life of the world to come,
through our Lord Jesus Christ;
who at his coming shall change our vile body,
that it may be like his glorious body,
according to the mighty working
whereby he is able to subdue all things unto himself.

Common Prayer Book

Text of the Traditional Anglican Burial at Sea Service

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.

Mary Elizabeth Frye

Poem Written in 1932

Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room,
I am I and you are you, whatever we were to each other that we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name; speak to me in the easy way,
which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone;
wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, and pray for me.
Let my name be forever the same as it always was,
let it be spoken without an effort,
without the ghost of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it always was;
there is absolutely unbroken continuity.
I am but waiting for you, for an interval,
somewhere very near, just around the corner.
··· All is well.

Canon Scott Holland

Crossing the Bar
Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness or farewell, When I embark;
For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far,
Hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crossed the bar.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Sea Fever
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way, where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
d quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

John Masefield