Funeral Blues

Random Literature or song Quiz

Can you complete W. H. Auden's Funeral Blues?

Featured Apr 3, 2009

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Score 0/30 Timer 07:00
Stop     the         cut off the           
Prevent the     from              a            
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring     the coffin, let the               
    airplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the     the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows       the white necks of the        doves,
    the                   wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My         week and my Sunday rest,
My       my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that      would      for ever: I was       
The stars are not wanted          out       one;
     up the      and dismantle the sun;
Pour      the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to     good.

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Created Apr 3, 2009Report
Tags:Lyrics, song, auden, blue, funeral, Funeral Blues, H Auden