Thanatopsis, << THAN uh TAHP sihs, >> is a poem by the American poet, essayist, and journalist William Cullen Bryant. It is one of the best known and most widely anthologized of American poems. It was first published in 1817, when Bryant was only 23 years old. Some scholars believe that the first draft was composed when Bryant was just 17.
The final version of “Thanatopsis,” as it appears here, was published in 1821, in the collection titled Poems. The North American Review had printed an earlier version. Bryant’s father had discovered the manuscript while his son was away and submitted it for publication. “Thanatopsis,” whose Greek title means glimpse of death, is a philosophical contemplation on death and the role of nature.
To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Over thy spirit, and sad images Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder and grow sick at heart;— Go forth, under the open sky, and list To Nature’s teachings, while from all around— Earth and her waters, and the depths of air,— Comes a still voice— Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again, And, lost each human trace, surrendering up Thine individual being, shalt thou go To mix forever with the elements, To be a brother to the insensible rock And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mold. Yet not to thy eternal resting-place Shalt thou retire alone— nor couldst thou wish Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world— with kings, The powerful of the earth— the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulcher.— The hills Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,— the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods— rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, Old Ocean’s gray and melancholy waste,— Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom.— Take the wings Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings— yet the dead are there, And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep— the dead reign there alone. So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw In silence from the living, and no friend Take note of thy departure? All that breathe Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come, And make their bed with thee. As the long train Of ages glides away, the sons of men,— The youth in life’s fresh spring, and he who goes In the full strength of years, matron and maid, And the speechless babe, and the gray-headed man,— Shall one by one be gathered to thy side, By those, who in their turn shall follow them. So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, which moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
“Thanatopsis” is written in free verse, which has no fixed rhyme scheme or meter. Despite this loose form, the poem has a somber elegance and dignity that suggest a formal or religious address. Bryant was influenced by the English Neoclassicists of the 1700’s, who used the classical ideals of formal balance and stoical distance. Stoicism, which comes from an ancient Greek school of philosophy, means a studied indifference to pain and pleasure. “Thanatopsis” strongly draws on the style of the Neoclassical poets of the “Graveyard” school, such as Robert Blair and Thomas Gray. Such writers wrote of a dignified and graceful acceptance of death.
But Bryant’s work also shows a Romantic poetic style. Among other things, the English Romantic poets emphasized the interaction between nature and the human spirit. Such poets as William Wordsworth found consolation and even hints of divine presence in nature. Bryant, who instructs us to listen “To Nature’s teachings,” insists on a natural world that is greater than the individual—”Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim / Thy growth.” Bryant is unrelenting in his picture of death’s finality. But he achieves a sense of calm reassurance in the “majesty” of nature, which will provide the “eternal resting place.”
For most critics, “Thanatopsis” provides a poetic balance between the claims of Classicism and Romanticism. It asserts the need to accept the simple reality of the grave: “All that breathe / Will share thy destiny.” Yet it finds peace in the recognition of this universal experience and suggests that such knowledge comes from nature. It presents no religious consolation, or promise of eternal life, which is quite unusual for its time. The poem does, however, preach a kind of faith—an “unfaltering trust” in the inevitable.
For more information about Bryant, see Bryant, William Cullen. See also American literature (Literature of a young nation (1788-1830)).
