Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
Nothing has happened at all.
Everything remains exactly as it was.
I am I and you are you, and the old life we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we still are.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into 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 an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant. I
T is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident.
Why should I be out of mind, because I am out of sight.
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner.
ALL IS WELL.

Are you sure this is a correct quote in its entirety? I am aware of a very similar poem - similar but not the same.

Where did you read it, copy it?

I think it's by Canon Henry Scott-Holland, 1847-1918, Canon of St Paul's Cathedral - a sermon on death delivered in St Paul's Cathedral on Whitsunday 1910, while the body of King Edward VII was lying in state at Westminster. Published in Facts of the Faith, 1919

http://www.poeticexpressions.co.uk/POEMS/Death%20is%20nothing%20at%20all%20-%20Canon%20Henry%20Scott-Holland.htm