Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone

W. H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

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3 Responses to “Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone”

  1. רן ערד Says:


  2. adisababa Says:

    you got to appreciate this. it is sad. but, perhaps will allow each of us to say ‘thank you’ for what we have. every morning. and to love.
    i added a post on the movie, 4 weddings and a funeral, so that the love side of life comes out too.
    thanks for those who were concerned with me

  3. adisababa Says:

    btw, auden wrote this poem without a title.
    it is part of a series of poems called XII songs.
    this is song IX

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