William Cullen Bryant
Thanatopsis is a word Bryant
coined by joining two Greek
words, thanatos, “death,” and
opsis, “sight.”
The new word is defined by the
poem: a way of looking at and
thinking about death.
William
Cullen Bryant wrote
“Thanatopsis” in a verse form
known as blank verse.
Blank
verse is unrhymed poetry
written in iambic pentameter.
 In
this meter, each line has five iambic feet, a
pattern consisting of an unstressed syllable (u )
followed by a stressed syllable ( ‘ ).
 Read
the following lines from “Thanatopsis” aloud
to hear the rhythm:
u ‘ u ‘ u ‘ u ‘ u
‘
 To him who in the love of Nature holds

u ‘ u
‘ u ‘ u
‘
u ‘
 Communion with her visible forms, she speaks

u ‘ u ‘ u ‘ u ‘ u
‘
To him who in the love of Nature holds
u ‘ u
‘ u ‘ u
‘
u ‘
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
Notice that the lines do not have a singsong.
 It imitates the natural rhythms of conversation.
 Bryant also achieves this effect through the use of
enjambment, which means that one line ends without a
pause and continues into the next line.

As you read “Thanatopsis,” read it WITHOUT pausing after
each line. Lightly pause for commas and stop at periods.
 Notice how the poem’s rhythm imitates natural speech.

 “Thanatopsis” is a poetic reflection on
death. The poem begins with a statement
of the consolation and “healing
sympathy” that gentle and caring and
beautiful Nature provides.
 The poet then suggests how to accept the
mortality that all humans share and to
face death without fear, “sustained and
soothed by unfaltering trust . . . like one
who . . . lies down to pleasant dreams.”
Lines 1-8
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
5
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
Lines 1-8

Lines 1-8

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
5
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

Here the speaker is introducing us to a certain kind
of guy who loves nature.
This guy has an almost holy relationship with
nature. He "holds communion" (like you would do in
a church) with things like rocks and trees and rivers
(those are examples of "visible forms" of nature). In
these moments of communion nature actually
"speaks" to this guy.
Nature is the "she" mentioned at the end of the
line.
Nature talks to her lover in different ways,
depending on the way he’s feeling. When he is
feeling happy (in "his gayer hours") Nature smiles,
and speaks to him happily ("with a voice of
gladness"). In these moments, she has the
"eloquence" (smooth and lovely speech) "of
beauty" (line 5).
Sometimes the nature lover is feeling mopey and is
brooding over depressing thoughts.
Then Nature "glides" in and makes him feel better.
In these moments, Nature treats him with gentle
sympathy, which heals him.
She takes away the pain ("sharpness") of his
thoughts before he even realizes it.
Enjambment occurs in lines
1–2 (“holds / communion”),
2–3 (“speaks / A various language”),
3–4 (“for his gayer hours / She has”),
4–5 (“a smile / And eloquence”),
5–6 (“glides / Into”),
6–7 (“a mild / And healing sympathy”),
and 7–8 (“steals away / Their sharpness”).
This enjambment makes the lines flow
naturally, echoing the rhythms of conversation.
Lines 8-17
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
10
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°
15 To Nature’s teachings, while from all around—
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air—
Comes a still voice.—
Lines 8-17
Lines 8-17
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight





10
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°

15 To Nature’s teachings, while from all around—
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air—

Comes a still voice.—

He’s really worried about death .
These thoughts about death come like a plague or disease
(a "blight") on his spirit.
The speaker of the poem isn’t just talking about a random
lover of nature now (the "him" from line 1). All of a
sudden, he’s talking about YOU.
He talks about "thy" (your) spirit. The poem has switched
from thinking about nature to giving YOU advice.
Here are some strong, scary images of death: Death
doesn’t just hurt, it hurts in a sharp, severe, serious way.
A "shroud" is the cloth you use to wrap up a dead body.
"Pall" is a spooky death word. It is a coffin. (like when
people talk about "pallbearers" at a funeral).
Here we get some more death imagery, only this time
even scarier: he wants us to imagine the "breathless
darkness" of the grave and the "narrow house" of the
coffin. Feeling claustrophobic?
Suddenly, we’re set free. The speaker tells us to go
outside, "under the open sky." That’s a big relief, given
that just two lines ago, we were trapped in a grave
underground (line 12).
Suddenly we’re back with "Nature" and we’re being told
to "list" (a fancy poetic way of saying listen) to her
"teachings." Those teachings are all around us in the great
outdoors.
The "voice" of Nature comes from the "Earth," the
"waters," and the "air." The poem calls Nature's voice a
"still" voice. That means, calm and quiet, and it gives this
line a feeling of peace and comfort.
Lines 17-30
Yet a few days, and thee
The all-beholding sun shall see no more
In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,
20 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
25 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
30 Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mold.
Lines 17-30
Lines 17-30

Yet a few days, and thee
The all-beholding sun shall see no more
In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,


20 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
25 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
30 Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mold.

Peace and comfort? Or maybe not. What's up with the "Yet a few
days" bit? At the end of line 16, there’s another shift. Apparently
something is going to happen in a few days, perhaps having to do
with death...
The speaker tries to make it sound pretty, but really he's telling us
we're going to die soon. Even the sun, which sees everything
won’t be able to see us any more.
The speaker tells us all the places we won’t be after we die: on
land, where the sun runs "all his course" (that’s the path the sun
follows over a day).
We also won’t be in the "cold ground," where our crying relatives
bury our corpse during our funeral.
We won’t be in the "embrace of the ocean" either.
No land or sea burial?
This poem’s tone is very somber right now. Does hope lie ahead?
Where does our "image" go when we die, if it isn’t sinking in the
sea or being buried in the ground? What? t goes back to the
Earth.
It was "nourishment" from the Earth that allowed our body to
grow, and now our body will be turned ("resolved") back into
earth again. -- "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.“
When we die, we lose what made us human . We give up our
"individual being."
He tells us our bodies will "mix with the elements." We’ll basically
lose senses: feeling, sight, hearing, leaving us no different from
rocks.
He drives the point with the words: "sluggish clod." He really
works this image of our bodies turning into dirt. He talks about
how a country boy digs up that clod of dirt with his plow and
walks all over it.
•Our dead bodies will be food for oak trees, as they send their
roots out through the earth. Those roots will pierce our bodies.
The central idea of the poem’s first
section is that all people die and their
remains return to earth to become
part of the whole of nature.
Lines 31-57
Yet not to thine 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,
35 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;
40 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
Lines 31-57
Lines 31- 57
Yet not to thine 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,


35 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;

40 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


The poem takes a turn. It’s sad and scary about dying so far.
Is the idea of your body turning into oak tree comforting? Maybe it's
better than that claustrophobic coffin!
We get a big "Yet." Even though it’s not good to die, the speaker
wants us to know that we won’t go there ("retire") alone.
We’re headed for a "magnificent" and comfy resting place, like a
"couch.“ What type of figurative language is this?
HYPERBOLE – An exaggeration!
We’ll be with important people: "patriarchs" (fathers, heads of
families, male leaders) from long ago.
Kings and other "powerful," "wise" and "good" people will be there.
Beautiful people ("fair forms") and old ("hoary") prophets ("seers").
We will all be in one giant tomb ("sepulcher") - the earth.
The speaker describes earth: the hills ("rock-ribbed and ancient as
the sun“), the quiet, thoughtful ("pensive") valleys in a way to make
the imaginary landscape feel alive.
“Venerable" means something old and deserving of respect - the
forests.
He describes majestic rivers, and their little cousins, "the complaining
brooks.“
He takes us to some pretty meadows, which the brooks have watered
and turned green.
Finally, we arrive at the "gray and melancholy waste" of the "Old
Ocean," which surrounds everything else.
Notice Bryant’s serious tone how he spends times telling us how
old (or "ancient" or "hoary" or "venerable") everything in the world
is.
And "melancholy waste" echoes the sadness of the first stanza.
Nature – hills, valleys, forests, streams, the ocean – are compared to
"decorations" on a "tomb." The hills and valleys and rivers are ways
to spruce up the giant grave that all humans will share, somewhat
"solemn decorations.“
45 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
50 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:
55 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.
Lines 31-57 (Cont)
45 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
50 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:
55 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.
Lines 31-57 (Cont)
Even the sun reminds him that death is unavoidable. The sun
keeps shining and people keep dying forever and ever. This
process keeps going "through the still lapse of the ages."
He keeps that same calming effect with words like "still," and
the passage ("lapse") of time continues no matter what we
do.
Notice throughout - the metaphor - the "earth as a big tomb"
He says that all the people who are now alive are just a small
amount of people compared to the dead people buried in
the ground.
TRANSCENDING HERE: Bryant imagines us flying off to the
deserts of North Africa ("the Barcan wilderness"). He’s
transporting us suddenly to far away lands, and calling up im
images of strange, exotic landscapes.
Then off in the other direction, across the continent of North
America, to the western coast.
In Bryant’s day, people didn't associate the West Coast with
cities like LA, San Francisco, Portland, and Seattle. It was
still a serious wilderness of endless trees ("continuous
woods"). In its way, the American West in the early 19th
century was as untamed as the African desert.
He then puts us on the shores of "the Oregon,“ an old name
for the Columbia River where he asks us to imagine that the
wilderness is so silent that there’s no sound except the noise
of the river.
Even in these far off places, away from civilization, there are
dead people in the ground - the one reality you can’t escape:
death.
The mood in these lines is hopeful and
joyous, in contrast with the gloomier
mood of the first section.
Lines 58-72
So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw
In silence from the living, and no friend
60 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
65 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,
70 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.
Lines 58-72
Lines 58-72
The whole point of this poem is that this is going to happen
So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw
to you. You’re going to "rest" like all those other people.
And he asks what if you die and none of your friends notice.
In silence from the living, and no friend
The speaker wants you to think about death in a calm,
relaxed way, to see how it fits in with the natural order of the
60 Take note of thy departure? All that breathe
world.
Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh
Everyone alive ("all that breathe") is going to die. All human
beings are headed for the same place. In a way, it’s obvious,
When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care but this poem forces us to think about it really carefully.
After we are gone, life will go on. Happy people will keep on
Plod on, and each one as before will chase
laughing. Unhappy people will continue to be weighed down
by their worry.
His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave
Eventually, all of those people you left behind when you died
65 Their mirth and their employments, and shall comeare coming to "make their bed" next to you.
And make their bed with thee. As the long train He takes one last survey of the history of humanity ("the long
train / of ages"). Just as that history goes away, so too does
the "sons of men" pass away.
Of ages glides away, the sons of men,
Once more: everyone dies. Young people eventually die.
The youth in life’s fresh spring, and he who goes People in their prime ("full strength") of life will die too.
The old woman ("matron") will die, but so will the young
In the full strength of years, matron and maid, woman ("maid").
70 The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man— The same goes for babies who are too young to talk and old
men with grey hair.
Death is the great equalizer. Doesn’t matter who or when or
Shall one by one be gathered to thy side,
what you are – you will die.
By those, who in their turn shall follow them.
All the people listed in lines 68-70 are going to come and lie
down next to you in the earth. They will be buried in the
grave by people who will then eventually die too. It’s an
endless chain, all of us following each other into the grave,
whether we like it or not.
Lines 73- 81
So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, which moves
75 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,
80 Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Lines 73-81
So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, which moves
75 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,
80 Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Lines 73-81
Bryant suddenly switches the mood up a little. The speaker
says: "So live." Enjoy the time you have.
Sooner or later you will hear the call ("the summons") of
death.
You will join the endless train of people leaving this life.
We’re still talking about death, but there’s some hope, a
reminder of the importance of life.
We’re all headed for what our speaker calls "that mysterious
realm."
We’re all going to get a room ("chamber") in the quiet "halls
of death."
We shouldn’t go as if we were being forced, like slaves in
darkness. Instead of acting like we are being whipped
("scourged") into some underground prison, we should trust
that what is happening to us is good.
We should be comforted and soothed by our belief in the
comfort and rightness of death.
Notice that he doesn’t say exactly what we should be
trusting in. There’s no clear religious message here, just
some general comfort.
He ends the poem with a beautiful image.
After all that grim contemplation of death, the speaker closes
things on a soothing, comforting note.
He says that we should get ready to die like someone
wrapping a blanket around himself and getting ready for a
happy, dream-filled sleep. HOW COZY.
Live fully while you can, but
when the time comes for you to
join all those who have died
before you, you can meet death
serenely.
Nature soothes and comforts people
during times of sadness.
When people die, their bodies mix
with the earth’s elements.
People need not fear death because
they will not be alone; rather, they will
be joining all those who have died
before.
Death is viewed as a natural part of life
(lines 22–30).
It is not frightening or lonely (lines 31–37;
66–72),
but rather welcoming and peaceful (lines
79–81).
Central idea—
section 1: Death comes to everyone;
section 2: When you die, you won’t be
alone;
section 3: Live fully so you can meet death
serenely.
The three-part structure helps develop the
message that death should not be feared
but accepted as natural and inevitable.
“Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim /
Thy growth” (lines 22–23)—thoughtful;
“nor couldst thou wish / Couch more
magnificent” (lines 32–33)—comforting;
“So live . . . pleasant dreams” (lines 73–
81)— encouraging.
Tone: thoughtful, soothing, formal, gentle
You may note that blank verse is effective
because it conveys the poem’s message in
a more natural manner that is also formal.
Images of nature serve to inspire and
comfort; all people are united in death,
regardless of station or status.
Bryant at age 70: might have viewed
death more fearfully and less
optimistically;
a Puritan: would likely be offended by the
lack of reference to God or heaven;
an English romantic poet: probably would
find the poem’s view of nature
inspirational.