Here is one of the poems as a reaction to those who think they must steal the work of the poet Henry Scott Holland, use their own made up title and pass this on as their own work. This is the poem Death is nothing at all. There is no other title, this is the original. Read our different article about a beautiful poem, that became the victim of faul play; plagiarism!
This is a different article than you would expect from The Ministry of Poetic Affairs.Just like the recent published article about the poem of W.B. Yeats. This time it was the poem written by Henry Holland Scott (and not by anone else), who was plagiarized.
Some people think it is justified to quote text of others, with or without alteration (changing the title, a few words etc). In this case the only reminder that this poem wasn’t as unique as one might think, was the referrrence to a magnificent writer. This leads to questions. Questions that can be avoided if someone who wants to use the text point out who has written the poem.
Altering a poem to suit your needs. Such a shame. Not mentioning who has written the words at first, even when you receive appriciation from those who see your work on social media. Such a shame! It’s even more of a shame when the one who uses the text, makes the alterations accuses us of copyright infringment and thinks that we should be admitted into a nutt house. These true, but sad words, were the result of an Instagram conversation. All we asked for is to set things right and mention the poet who write the work at first. This conversation was futile, unfortunately.
To set things straight and to make sure the true poet gets the recognition for his work, we are publishing the poem Death is nothing at all. In the next few days, we will post some more poems in the original version. Not the altered ones. So, our advice: take a closer look at your followers list and see who is the one who isn’t honest.
About the poet
Henry Scott Holland was born on January 1847 in Ledbury, Herefordshire (England). He was the son of Charlotte Dorothy Gifford and George Henry Holland of Dumbleton Hall, Evesham and of the Hon. He would receive his education at Eton and Balliol College. He was elected a Student of Christ Church in Oxford and later on he was appointed as the canon of the St. Paul’s Cathedral in London.
In 1910 he would become the Regius Professor of Divinity at Oxford University. He would hold this position till his death in 1918.
Let’s move on to the poem. This poem was written by Henry Scott Holland and not by anyone else. If you believe those who will tell you different, even when the altered the title to meet their demands, then you are wrongly informed.
We are not using the artwork that was used in a certain Instagram post. This is also a case of plagiarism or copyright infringement. The artwork that was used in the post we recently discovered is from a YouTube clip: Impro – Up In Flames. It’s insane to show the clip in an article of this poet, but we feel that there is no other option for the maker of the clip or artwork to get some credit for this.
Death is nothing at all
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 in 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, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without affect,
without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolutely unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you,
for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just around the corner.