Thanatopsis

  • Thanatopsis

  • Narrator

    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

  • And eloquence of beauty, and she glides

  • Into his darker musings, with a mild

  • And healing sympathy, that steals away

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    Their sharpness, e're he is aware. When thoughts

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  • 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;

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    Go forth, under the open sky, and list

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  • 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

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    In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,

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