' I have a friend
At the end
Of the world
His name is a breath

Of fresh air
He is dressed in
Grey chiffon.At least
I think it is chiffon.
It has a
Peculiar look like smoke.

It wraps him round
It blows out of place
It conceals him,
I have not seen his face.

But I have seen his eyes, they are
As pretty and bright
As raindrops on black twigs
In March, and heard him say:

I am a breath
Of fresh air for you, a change
By and by.

Black March I call him
Because of his eyes
Being like March raindrops
On black twigs.

(Such a pretty time when the sky
Behind black twigs can be seen
Stretched out in one
Uninterrupted
Cambridge blue as cold as snow)

But this friend
Whatever new names I give him
Is an old friend. he says:

Whatever names you give me
I am
A breath of fresh air,
a change for you.'

And this, the last poem Stevie Smith wrote

Come, Death 2

I feel ill. what can the matter be?
I'd ask God to have pity on me,
But I turn to the one I know, and say
Come, Death, and carry me away.

Ah me sweet Death, you are the only god
Who comes as a servant when he is called, you know,
listen to thi ssound I make, it is sharp,
come Death. Do not be slow.

Sunday May 6, 2007

Observer

Barbara Gunnell
I'd teach children to be sceptical of any such 'secrets' revealed to them. The wisdom of ages is that happiness eludes those who seek it. But happiness has become an important economic discipline, not least because in this prosperous and reasonably benignly governed land, so many of us are miserable. Happiness economists, including Lord Layard, have demonstrated that, beyond a modest level, increased wealth does not make us happy, while wealth inequality can be a major cause of anxiety. Seems to me he should recast his happiness lessons for the Treasury.

· Barbara Gunnell is associate editor of the New Statesman

Donald Macleod

Very reluctantly, since the pursuit of happiness is self-defeating. But if forced to, I would operate on the principle that the happiest person in the world is the one who is content with the least. That way, happiness would be independent of circumstances. We could sing in prison and have fun amid electoral setbacks. But then, being happy might itself make me miserable. If it's better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a pig satisfied, being satisfied could be a very bad sign. Didn't the wisest of men say: 'Blessed are those that mourn'? The real secret of happiness is that it doesn't matter.

· Donald Macleod is principal of the Free Church College, Edinburgh

Mary Warnock

Happiness may to some extent be taught by example. A good teacher will set an example of fairness, honesty and reliability. He may also set an example of enthusiasm and imagination. To introduce a child to the wish to learn more, or to improve his performance, is to introduce him to happiness. If a child has been miserable at a vast school, where nobody cares whether he lives or dies, and meets a teacher who seems to know and like him, who encourages his efforts and listens to his opinions, then that child is introduced to happiness.

These are the only ways that happiness can be taught.

· Mary Warnock is a philosopher

Karol Sakora

Happiness is a pretty elusive concept to teach. I think the good Lord would be hard pressed to devise a worthwhile curriculum, let alone mark a GCSE for it. Happiness can be achieved in so many ways - work, art, music, providing service to others. Unfortunately, the consumer culture in which we live suggests it can be obtained by buying fancy cars, entertainment systems and holidaying in sunny but dull places. Selling dreams has now become big business. The simple truth is that thwarted ambition is to be avoided at all cost. Underachieving in fame, fortune and glory is disastrous and only brings misery.

· Karol Sikora is a cancer specialist

"This must have been my life
but I never lived it."
-Her childishy wide stare
at some diminishing reel
of space and brightness, half
illusory, half not,
stuns to an epitaph.
And I can read it all:
how a little lie
whitened to twenty years:
how she was chosen by
something called happiness,
yet nothing, nothing was hers.
And now she has to turn
away. and her bruised eyes
are smiling in their nets:
"It's simple, isn't it?
Never say the yes
you don't mean, but the no
you always meant, say that,
even it it's too late,
even if it kills you."

It is a great pity we don't know
When the dead are going to die.
So that, over a last companionable
Drink, we could tell them
How much we liked them.

Happy the man who, dying, can
Place his hand on his heart and say:
'At least I didn't neglect to tell
The thrush how beautifully she sings.

I have put a link to Kubler-Ross's classic work "On Death and Dying" (1969) in the bibliography. As the blurb says "Dr Ross projects her warm understanding, sophistication, and sensitivity into every page … an excellent book on the management of the terminally ill … offers hope for the understanding of human strengths and weaknesses experienced during a very difficult time." American Journal of Psychiatry.

She recognises stages that can go from shock, through denial, anger, depression, bargaining and then acceptance. The book contains many verbatim conversations between terminally ill people and their carers and relations. Powerful stuff.