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letra de hardy's funeral - dominick argento

yesterday we went to hardy’s funeral. what did i think of? of max beerbohm’s letter . . . or a lecture . . . about women’s writing at intervals some emotion broke in. but i doubt the capacity of the human animal for being dignified in ceremony. one catches a bishop’s frown and twitch; sees his polished shiny nose; suspects the rapt spectacled young priest, gazing at the cross he carries of being a humbug . . . next here is the coffin, an overgrown one; like a stage coffin, covered with a white satin cloth; bearers
elderly gentlemen rather red and stiff, holding to the corners; pigeons flying outside . . . processions to poets corner; dramatic “in sure and certain hope of immortality” perhaps melodramatic . . . over all this broods for me some uneasy sense of change and mortality and how partings are deaths; and then a sense of my own fame . . . and a sense of the futility of it all

- dominick argento

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