“Thanatopsis”
By: William Cullen Bryant
Lines 1-8 Summary
Line 1
To him who in the love of Nature holds
· The first line of this poem is confusing all by itself, so read through it to the middle of the third line – that’s where the first idea ends (at the semicolon after "language"). Now let’s go back to line 1.
· Here the speaker is introducing us to a certain kind of guy who loves nature.
Line 2
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
· 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. That’s an example of personification, a pretty common poetic trick.
· (We’ll go along with Bryant and use the capital letter "N" for Nature, because in this case she’s more like a person than a thing).
Lines 3-5
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides
· 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).
Lines 6-8
Into his darker musings, with a mild
And healing sympathy, that steals away
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts
· 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. Basically, when this guy’s feeling lousy, Nature fixes him up. She might even bake him some chocolate-chip cookies.
Lines 9-13 Summary
Line 9-10
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images
· Still, this guy isn’t just having any old depressing thoughts. He’s really worried about death ("the last bitter hour").
· These thoughts about death come like a plague or disease (a "blight") on his spirit. (By the way, "blight" is a pretty good word. It's often used when referring to diseases plants get. Check outthese pictures of potato blightfor an example. Can you imagine this guy's spirit getting potato blight? Nasty.)
· Did you see what happened there? 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. Here, for the first time, in line 10, he talks about "thy" (your) spirit. The poem has switched from musing about nature to giving you advice.
Line 11
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
· We're pretty sure everyone has thought about what it will be like to die. You have, haven't you? Here the speaker gives us some strong images of those scary thoughts.
· He talks about the "stern agony" of dying, which we think is a great phrase. Death doesn’t just hurt, it hurts in a sharp, severe, serious way. We think of mean substitute teachers and hall monitors as being "stern," but usually those guys don't cause agony. Death does, though.
· The speaker also uses a couple of useful, death-related words, so we’ll break those down for you.
· A "shroud" is the cloth you use to wrap up a dead body.
· "Pall" is another good, spooky death word. It can mean a cloth that covers a coffin, or it can mean the coffin itself (like when people talk about "pallbearers" at a funeral).
Line 12
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
· Here we get some more death imagery, only this time even scarier.
· The speaker helps us imagine the "breathless darkness" of the grave and the "narrow house" of the coffin. These lines are really claustrophobic, aren’t they? They make us feel like we’re trapped in some suffocating prison. We're feeling a bit panicky now.
Line 13
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;—
· The speaker is definitely building a mood here. He wants us to think about those moments where we worry so much about death that we "shudder" and "grow sick at heart."
· Soak up this scary feeling, because he’s about to change things up on us.
Lines 14-21 Summary
Lines 14-15
Go forth, under the open sky, and list
To Nature’s teachings, while from all around—
· 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.
Lines 16-17
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air—
Comes a still voice— Yet a few days, and thee
· The "voice" of Nature comes from the "Earth," the "waters," and the "air."
· It’s really important that 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. Things are going to be OK.
· Or maybe not. What's up with the "Yet a few days" bit? Well, at the end of line 16, there’s another shift. Apparently something is going to happen in a few days, and we're guessing it's going to have something to do with death...
Line 18
The all-beholding sun shall see no more
· Bad news! Apparently we’re going to die in a few days.
· 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 ("all-beholding") won’t be able to see us any more. We’re just going to vanish.
Lines 19-21
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
· Now we go on a little tour, as the speaker tells us all the places we won’t be after we die.
· We won’t be 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.
· So wait. Where will we be? We've talked about a land burial and a sea burial. What' next? Cremation?
· This poem’s kind of a bummer right now, but there’s good news coming, we promise.
Lines 22-30 Summary
Lines 22-23
Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim
Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again,
· Phew. No cremation.
· So where does our "image" go when we die, if it isn’t sinking in the sea or being buried in the ground? Well, it 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. This is like that old expression you may have heard – "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."
Lines 24-25
And, lost each human trace, surrendering up
Thine individual being, shalt thou go
· When we die, according to this poem’s version of things, we lose what made us human ("each human trace"). We give up our "individual being."
· Basically, after you die, you stop being the person you used to be.
Lines 26-27
To mix for ever with the elements,
To be a brother to the insensible rock
· Our speaker is really in love with this image of returning to the Earth, so now he just riffs on it a little.
· He tells us our bodies will "mix […] with the elements." We’ll basically be no different from an "insensible rock." Insensible just means "unable to feel." So, all the touch and sight and hearing and emotion that made us human will be gone, leaving us no different from rocks.
Lines 28-29
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak
· Just to make sure we got the point, the poem drives it in again, this time with some fancy vocab words.
· Now the speaker tells us we’ll be like a "sluggish clod" after we’re dead. A "clod" is a chunk of dirt, and "sluggish" lets us know how lifeless and heavy we’ll be.
· The speaker really works this image of our bodies turning into dirt. Here he talks about how a country boy (aka a "swain" – a pretty popular dude in old nature poems) digs up that clod of dirt with his plow ("share") and walks ("treads") all over it. That’s just how low you’ll be after you’re dead. Even the swains get to step on you. Bummer.
· Are you feeling comforted yet? Um, we're guessing no. Hey, Mr. Speaker, you're going to have to try a bit harder.
Line 30
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.
· Our dead bodies will be food for oak trees, as they send their roots out through the earth. Those roots will pierce the "mould" (soil) of our bodies.
· We think that last image is really vivid – a little bit violent, but also sort of beautiful. Bodies mixing with trees? OK, it could be worse.
Lines 31-37 Summary
Lines 31-32
Yet not to thine eternal resting-place
Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish
· This is a big turn in the poem. Up until now, we’ve only been talking about the sad and scary aspects of dying. Is the idea of your body turning into oak tree Miracle-Gro comforting? Sure it's better than that claustrophobic coffin, but it's still not great.
· Now we get a big "Yet." Even though there’s some bad news about going to our "eternal resting place," the speaker wants us to know that we won’t go there ("retire") all by ourselves.
Line 33
Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down
· In fact, the speaker tells us we’re headed for a "magnificent" and comfy resting place, like a "couch." That sounds pretty good, right? Way better than the "narrow house" we were worrying about in line 12.
· We’re making a big swing here, from creepy to comforting.
Lines 34-36
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,
· The speaker tells us that when we die, we’ll "lie down" with all kinds of fancy and important people.
· There will be "patriarchs" (that means fathers, heads of families, or male leaders) from long ago when the Earth was young ("the infant world"). This also makes us think of the Biblical patriarchs, like Abraham.
· There will also be kings and others who are "powerful," "wise" and "good."
· In this final resting place, there will be beautiful people ("fair forms"). There will also be old ("hoary") prophets ("seers").
· Maybe it’s hard to see where this is headed, but he’s building to a point, we promise.
Line 37
All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills
· All of these important people from lines 34-36 will lie down with you in one giant tomb ("sepulcher"). That giant tomb, of course, is the Earth.
· That’s what this whole section of the poem is about, the idea that when we die we all lie down together in one big grave. What’s cool is how Bryant can make that sound like a good thing. You're feeling a bit special now, aren't you?
Lines 38-45 Summary
Line 38
Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,—the vales
· Now the speaker starts a description of the whole earth, of the geography of our globe. Remember, "Thanatopsis" started out as a nature poem, and now we’re headed back to those themes.
· He begins by talking about the hills. He refers to them as "rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun." We sort of love that image – it makes the hills sound like giant, old sleeping animals.
Line 39
Stretching in pensive quietness between;
· Next he describes the quiet, thoughtful ("pensive") valleys that stretch out between the hills. Again, the idea that a valley could be thoughtful makes this whole imaginary landscape feel kind of alive.
Line 40-41
The venerable woods—rivers that move
In majesty, and the complaining brooks
· Just a few more stops on this tour of the world’s landscape:
· We take a quick peek at the "venerable" (that means something old and deserving of respect) forests. We picture these woods as being like Fangorn inLord of the Rings– ancient, and full of wise Ents.
· We also see the majestic rivers, and their little cousins, "the complaining brooks." (A brook is a little stream, and the speaker calls them complaining to create an image of the constant, burbling sound they make.)
Line 42-43
That make the meadows green; and, poured round all,
Old Ocean’s gray and melancholy waste,—
· After that, the speaker 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.
· A couple things to notice about that last image. First, Bryant spends a lot of times telling us how old (or "ancient" or "hoary" or "venerable") everything in the world is. We think that adds to the peaceful, serious tone of this poem. Second, we’re back to some grim imagery – does "melancholy waste" sound nice to you? – an echo of the sad moments in the first stanza.