The Sonnets of Christopher Whitby: 8

Elegy for Dad

Is't come to this? The bright day is done,
The wine of life is drawn and the mere lees
Is left this vault to brag of. A noble mind
Is here o'erthrown, perplex'd in the extreme.
O let him pass. In truth, men must endure
Their going hence even as their coming hither.
The end crowns all and we owe God a death.

His life was gentle and the elements
So mix'd in him that nature might stand up
And say to all the world, 'This was a man,
With all the virtues that attend the good.'
We are such stuff as dreams are made on
And our little life is rounded with a sleep.
And so, good night sweet prince,
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.

The Sonnets of Christopher Whitby

Elegy for Dad Is't come to this? The bright day is done, The wine of life is drawn and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of. A noble mind Is here o'erthrown, perplex'd in the extreme. O let him pass. In truth, men must endure Their going hence even as their coming hither. The end crowns all and we owe God a death. His life was gentle and the elements So mix'd in him that nature might stand up And say to all the world, 'This was a man, With all the virtues that attend the good.' We are such stuff as dreams are made on And our little life is rounded with a sleep. And so, good night sweet prince, And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.
		July 2005
Not strictly a sonnet, but begun during my father's last few days' struggle with Alzheimer's, and as I do not yet have my own words, compiled from words by Shakespeare.
James Douglas Whitby 2.10.1920 - 6.7.2005
Footnote. That was then. A couple of years later, I felt the words did come after I found myself reading a story to my child that my father had read to me when I was little and I wrote a sonnet about the rather peculiar feelings that caused. Because it embraces 3 generations, Just So (4 pages on from here) is a better 'elegy' and one he would have approved of far more.

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