Thanatopsis

The poem, “Thanatopsis,” was written by poet William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878). “Thanatopsis” means “a consideration of death,” and is derived from the Greek thanatos” (death) and “opsis” (view or sight).  While Bryant could not remember when he wrote the verse, his friend, Parke Godwin reported that Bryant wrote it when he was but seventeen years old.  Bryant made a few minor changes to the text and added more material to the end of the poem in 1821. There is not enough space to share the poem with you—but you can easily find it on the internet.  

Once again I am engaged in “a consideration of death” after my mother-in-law’s “graduation” from life yesterday afternoon.  This isn’t the first time I’ve considered it.  I considered it for the first time at a very early age when a wild animal I tried to help live died under my care.  I held many a funeral for the pet chipmunks, groundhogs, birds and squirrels that died during my boyhood years.  I considered death at a much deeper level at the age of 14 when my high school friend, Steve, died of leukemia. I’ve considered it often in my vocation, sitting for hours with parishioners in homes, hospitals, nursing homes, etc.,  as they awaited the final curtain to close on the life of a loved one.  I’ve considered it in the death of my grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends.  Thanatopsis (a consideration of death) has gripped me, over and over again, as far back as I can remember.  The reason this is so is because I believe with another poet John Donne, “no man is an island, entire unto itself,….Any man’s (person’s) death diminishes me, because I am involved with mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”

Where does “graduation” from this life lead us?  Is death just simply an end—the final curtain of the play?  Or is there a possibility that Jesus knew what he was talking about, “where I am, there you shall be also.”  Was Socrates right when on the eve of his own death he spoke of the afterlife he would soon enjoy?  What about the pharaohs of Egypt?  Well, in my own “Thanatopsis,”  I ponder death as Bryant must have done and with questions galore,  I join with Bryant as I read the final lines of his poem, Thanatopsis:

“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.”