<P> "Thanatopsis" is a poem by the American poet William Cullen Bryant . Meaning' a consideration of death', the word is derived from the Greek' thanatos' (death) and' opsis' (view, sight). </P> <P> William Cullen Bryant was born in 1794 in Cummington, Massachusetts . Bryant grew up in a Puritan home with his father, Peter Bryant, a prominent doctor . William Cullen Bryant's early education came from his father . In his early life Bryant would spend a great deal of time in the woods surrounding his family's New England home, and read of the extensive personal library his father had . Bryant's first published poem was "The Embargo; or, Sketches of the Times", a satirical work concerning Thomas Jefferson's Embargo Act of 1807 . It was released in a Boston newspaper in 1808 . In 1810 Bryant was forced to leave Williams College for lack of money . Instead of a formal education, he started studying law, and began learning an eclectic mix of poetry, such as the works of as Isaac Watts and Henry Kirke White, and verses like William Cowper's "The Task" and Edmund Spenser's "The Faerie Queene". </P> <P> When and where Bryant wrote "Thanatopsis" is unclear, and Bryant himself could not remember when he wrote the verse . According to Parke Godwin, Bryant's friend, Bryant wrote the poem when he was seventeen years old in mid-1811, just after he had left Williams College . In History of American Literature, two dates are stated for the authoring of "Thanatopsis", 1811 and 1816 . Bryant's inspiration for "Thanatopsis" came after reading William Wordsworth's Lyrical Ballads, as well as Robert Blair's "The Grave", Beilby Porteus's "Death" and Kirke White's "Time". After Bryant had left Cummington to begin his law studies, his father discovered a manuscript in Bryant's desk drawer, that contained "Thanatopsis" and a fragment of a poem, which would be published under the title "The Fragment", and later titled "An Inscription upon the Entrance to a Wood". He sent the two poems without his son's knowledge to the editors at the North American Review, where they were published in September 1817 . The editors added an introduction to Thanatopsis in a completely different style . The part written by the author begins with "Yet a few days,". The author republished the poem in 1821 in a collection of works called Poems . He replaced the introductory section, made a few minor changes to the text and added more material after the original end of the poem, which was "and make their bed with thee!". Below is the revised version of 1821 which was retained in all later publications of the poem: </P> <P> 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 for ever 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 mould . 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, The powerful of the earth--the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre . 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 glide away, the sons of men, The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes In the full strength of years, matron and maid, 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 . </P>

So live that when thy summons comes to join the innumerable caravan which moves