Farewell

Bar

Mary Frye enjoyed writing poetry.
She wasn't interested in publishing her poems. She just wrote them for her own enjoyment.
Occasionally she would pass a poem on to a friend who could use a lift. "I don't figure I have any great talent," the Baltimore, Maryland homemaker said, but many people would disagree. One of her poems, especially, has given hope and comfort to people who mourn for over 50 years.

When a friend of hers lost someone close, Mary Frye jotted down a poem, which seemed to spring from her heart, and gave it to the grieving woman. That poem was later passed on to others, who, in turn, passed it on, until it became an American classic. "If it helps one person through a hard time, I am amply paid," said the poet, who has received no remuneration for her uncopyrighted work. It has been used in countless funeral services, printed in innumerable memorial folders, translated and used in foreign lands and even incorporated into television drama. . .

I have recently found a site which offers a bit more information on this Poet and her work.
Please have a look there.

Here is Mary Frye's 1932, very moving poem:

"Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.

I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.

I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room,
I am the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die."

"How many people are finding strength and solace from a verse jotted by a woman who always professed she had no talent? And what if she had kept her poetry to herself? "Don't be afraid to use the talents you do possess," it has been well advised. "The woods would be very silent if only the birds with the sweetest songs were heard."

Information on Mary Frye and her poetry taken from "Ideals" magazine, published beginning in 1944 from a location in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The text suggests that she wrote it in 1932. I have been unable to locate current information on 'Ideals' and am not even certain it still exists. If someone knows of a current address for the magazine or the owners of the magazine, please send me an email with it at the address on the bottom of this page. It was a wonderful, inspirational publication and the world is in need of such inspirations.

I have about 25 issues of "Ideals", including one with this poem displayed and the information shown above, in my library and really wish I had them all. It was an excellent magazine containing original poetry, classic poetry, recipes, Americana and Inspirational material, presented with beautiful images to enhance the experience. I am certain such a magazine published currently would be quite expensive.

I have received emails from several claiming ownership of this poem in some variation or another.
This is my stand on the subject:

I believe Mary Frye is the original author of the version above and will continue to do so until I see documented proof otherwise.

I received an email in early May, 2007, from a woman in Holland,
who has proof of ownership of the version of the poem shown below and dated 1981.
You may see her claim and proof of ownership at her site.

I do not plan to make this site an anthology of the variations of this poem. I offer this one only because I had placed exactly the wording of the poem variation she claims, long before she set forth her claim and proof to me, as an example of the variations which have appeared of this popular poem.

I do not imply that she or anyone who created such variations plagarized in any way. Great Thoughts have a way of proliferating. I choose to believe this is one such example of that phenomena.

Below is Karin Aleida Vorrink's beautiful interpretation, as presented on her site.

© Karin Aleida Vorrink
March 22nd, 1981

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 the ripened grain-
I am the gentle Autumn's rain.

When you awaken in the morning hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft starlight of night.

Do not stand at my grave - and weep
I am NOT there; I do not sleep...
I am awake, and guiding through the Night -
Towards a gentle gleam of Light

Do not stand at my grave and weep -
I am not there; I do not sleep...

This page and its contents were designed by Magic Interludes 2001 - 2007
"Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep" Is By Mary Frye©.