Cyril Morton Horne
In the Afterwards, when I am dead,
I want no flowers over my head.
But if Fate and the Gods are kind to me
They’ll send me a Sikh half Company
To fire three volleys over my head –
To sweeten my sleep, when I am dead.
And these are the words they will write for me –
“Here endeth a Fool’s Philosophy!”
And may shall sneer: But Someone shall sigh,
Yet I shall not hear them as there I lie,
For this is the Law of Lover and Friend –
That all joy must finish, all feeling end.
And many shall laugh: But Someone shall weep,
Yet I shall not know – I shall lie asleep;
A worn-out body, a dried-up crust;
Ashes to ashes and Dust to Dust!
And they’ll drink a toast up there in the Mess,
“Here’s to a friend in his loneliness!”
And music and talk for a while shall cease
While my Brothers drink to their Brother’s Peace.
And the Sikhs shall say (That were once mine own):
“Who rodeth with us often now rides alone!”
And leaning over the grave they’ll sigh –
“Sahib murgya! Ki jae, Ki Jae!”*
And I, who so loved them one and all
Shall stir no more at the Bugle call,
But another Sahib shall ride instead
At the head of my Sikhs, when I am dead.
And even this thought which hurts me so,
Shall cease to trouble me when I go.
My chestnut charger, Mam’selle,
(She was fleet of foot and I loved her well!)
Shall nibble the grass above my head
Unknowing that one she loved is dead.
Someone – my Horse and my Company
Shall fail to smile at the comedy;
Shall strive to reason yet fail to guess
That Life is little and Death is less!
And they shall sorrow a little space
Till somebody comes to fill my place;
But all their sorrow, their grief and pain,
They shall expend upon me – in vain!
And you – if you read this epitaph –
Harden your heart I pray you, laugh!
But if you would deal with me tenderly
Place one dew-kissed violet over me;
I claim not this and I ask no more,
Yet – this was the flow’r that Someone wore
In the long-dead days that have gone before.
* The Sahib is dead! Rest his soul!
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Analysis (AI Assisted)
This poem is a poignant meditation on death, legacy, and the transient nature of life, written with a mix of humor, resignation, and deep affection. The speaker, who imagines his death, reflects not only on his own end but on how others—his comrades, his horse, and even his past loves—will remember him. Despite the humorous and lighthearted tone at times, there is an undercurrent of sorrow and acceptance that runs throughout, creating a multifaceted portrayal of mortality.
From the outset, the speaker expresses a desire for simplicity in death. “I want no flowers over my head,” he says, rejecting conventional forms of commemoration. Instead, he wishes for a more meaningful tribute: “If Fate and the Gods are kind to me / They’ll send me a Sikh half Company / To fire three volleys over my head.” This desire for a military salute, a gesture of respect from his comrades, conveys the speaker’s identity as a soldier and a leader. The “three volleys” evoke traditional military rites for the dead, and the act of the Sikhs—his “brothers”—honoring him this way reflects the deep bond between them, transcending both death and cultural boundaries.
The line “Here endeth a Fool’s Philosophy!” adds an interesting twist. By referring to his philosophy as “foolish,” the speaker is acknowledging the absurdity of life and perhaps his own role in it. There’s a lightness to this self-deprecation—he’s not taking himself too seriously, but at the same time, there’s a trace of sorrow, as if he’s recognizing that life’s wisdom often comes too late, and in the end, we are all fools to some extent.
The speaker then contemplates the reactions of those left behind. “And many shall laugh: But Someone shall weep,” he writes, reflecting the inevitability of both joy and grief in the wake of death. There is a sense of detachment here—the speaker accepts that, while others may grieve, he himself will not be there to witness it. He imagines that his body will be reduced to “Ashes to ashes and Dust to Dust,” reflecting both a spiritual and physical dissolution.
There’s a tender moment where the speaker imagines his comrades—“my Brothers”—drinking a toast in his memory: “Here’s to a friend in his loneliness!” The sentiment here is bittersweet, a celebration of friendship amidst the isolation of death. The phrase “Brother’s Peace” suggests a desire for his comrades to find peace after the tumult of war, with their toast serving as both a farewell and a recognition of the bonds they shared.
The section where the speaker imagines the Sikhs recalling his absence—“Who rodeth with us often now rides alone!”—adds another layer of poignancy. The Sikhs, who once rode alongside him, will now ride without him. This line reflects not just the physical absence of the speaker but the emotional void left by his death. The phrase “Sahib murgya! Ki jae, Ki Jae!” (“The Sahib is dead! Rest his soul!”) is an expression of loss and respect, likely rooted in the Sikh military tradition, marking his death as a solemn moment of farewell.
The image of his horse, Mam’selle, grazing above his grave, unaware of her rider’s passing, adds a final, bittersweet touch. This image reinforces the idea of life continuing on in its own way, regardless of the personal loss experienced by the speaker. Mam’selle, a symbol of his former vitality and connection to the physical world, is now untouched by the fact that he is no longer there to ride her.
The poem ends with the speaker contemplating how life and death are both fleeting. “Life is little and Death is less!” he declares. This reflects the existential truth that life’s struggles and joys, and even death itself, are all temporary, leaving behind little more than memories. The speaker’s acceptance of this is framed by an almost resigned humor—“all their sorrow, their grief and pain, / They shall expend upon me – in vain!”—suggesting that grief, like life itself, is ultimately futile in the face of death’s finality.
The speaker’s final request, a small gesture of tenderness, is for a single violet to be placed over his grave. The violet, symbolizing modesty, love, and remembrance, represents a final connection to someone who was once loved. The speaker’s mention of “Someone” wearing this flower in the “long-dead days that have gone before” suggests that the violet holds personal significance, perhaps tied to a past love or a memory of youth. It’s a delicate plea, not for grand memorials or fanfare, but for a simple gesture of affection that links the past and the present.
Ultimately, this poem is a contemplation on the nature of death and memory. The speaker’s thoughts are filled with a mixture of irony, affection, and quiet sorrow. He recognizes that he will be forgotten in time, that his absence will be filled by someone else, and that even his most cherished relationships will eventually fade. Yet in the end, he seeks not grand recognition or mourning, but a quiet, personal tribute—a single violet placed upon his grave, a symbol of love and remembrance amidst the inevitable passing of time.
As a war poem, it touches on the themes of brotherhood, sacrifice, and the fleeting nature of life, offering a deeply human reflection on what it means to live and die. The speaker’s acceptance of death, his sense of humor, and his love for his comrades and past life all contribute to a moving and thought-provoking meditation on mortality.