96 lines
3.8 KiB
Markdown
96 lines
3.8 KiB
Markdown
---
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title: Thanatopsis
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tags:
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- exclude-from-word-count
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- type/media/poetry
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author: William Cullen Bryant
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year: 1881
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---
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# Thanatopsis
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To him who in the love of Nature holds \
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Communion with her visible forms, she speaks \
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A various language; for his gayer hours \
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She has a voice of gladness, and a smile \
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And eloquence of beauty, and she glides \
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Into his darker musings, with a mild \
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And healing sympathy, that steals away \
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Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts \
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Of the last bitter hour come like a blight \
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Over thy spirit, and sad images \
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Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, \
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And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, \
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Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;--- \
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Go forth, under the open sky, and list \
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To Nature's teachings, while from all around--- \
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Earth and her waters, and the depths of air--- \
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Comes a still voice---Yet a few days, and thee \
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The all-beholding sun shall see no more \
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In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, \
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Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, \
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Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist \
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Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim \
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Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again, \
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And, lost each human trace, surrendering up \
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Thine individual being, shalt thou go \
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To mix for ever with the elements, \
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To be a brother to the insensible rock \
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And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain \
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Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak \
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Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.
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\
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Yet not to thine eternal resting-place \
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Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish \
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Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down \
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With patriarchs of the infant world---with kings, \
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The powerful of the earth---the wise, the good, \
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Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, \
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All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills \
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Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,---the vales \
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Stretching in pensive quietness between; \
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The venerable woods---rivers that move \
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In majesty, and the complaining brooks \
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That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, \
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Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,--- \
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Are but the solemn decorations all \
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Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, \
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The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, \
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Are shining on the sad abodes of death, \
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Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread \
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The globe are but a handful to the tribes \
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That slumber in its bosom.---Take the wings \
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Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness, \
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Or lose thyself in the continuous woods \
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Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, \
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Save his own dashings---yet the dead are there: \
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And millions in those solitudes, since first \
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The flight of years began, have laid them down \
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In their last sleep---the dead reign there alone. \
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So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw \
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In silence from the living, and no friend \
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Take note of thy departure? All that breathe \
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Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh \
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When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care \
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Plod on, and each one as before will chase \
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His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave \
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Their mirth and their employments, and shall come \
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And make their bed with thee. As the long train \
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Of ages glide away, the sons of men, \
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The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes \
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In the full strength of years, matron and maid, \
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The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man--- \
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Shall one by one be gathered to thy side, \
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By those, who in their turn shall follow them.
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So live, that when thy summons comes to join \
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The innumerable caravan, which moves \
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To that mysterious realm, where each shall take \
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His chamber in the silent halls of death, \
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Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, \
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Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed \
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By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, \
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Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch \
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About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
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