Chapter William Cullen Bryant of Index by Simonds History of American Literature

is said that the poet's father was so affected by what he had found, that he ran with the poems to an appreciative neighbor, burst into tears, and exclaimed, "Oh, read that; it is Cullen's." Without consulting their author, Dr. Bryant immediately copied the poems, took them to Boston, and placed them in the editor's hands. When Phillips read Thanatopsis to Richard Henry Dana, associate editor of the North American, the latter remarked with a smile, "Ah, Phillips, you have been imposed upon; no one on this side of the Atlantic is capable of writing such verses." However, the two poems appeared in the Review for September, 1817.

Thanatopsis.

As already stated, Bryant had written Thanatopsis, as nearly as he could recollect, in 1811. Through some impulse of self-distrust or of diffidence, he had refrained from submitting these unusual lines to his father, whose kindly criticism he had commonly invited, and they had lain thus hidden for six years. The poem was a marvelous production for a boy of seventeen -- this solemn "view of death," so calm and selfcontrolled in its presentation, so universal and elemental in its stately setting. When published in the Review, the poem lacked its formal introduction -- the exhortation to "list to Nature's teachings," nor did it then possess the familiar lines of its present effective conclusion. The poem began with what is now line 17, "Yet a few days," and ended with line 66, "And make their bed with thee." But it did include those sonorous verses:--

   "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."

Marvelous indeed it was that one so young could rise to such lofty thought and find such impressive phraseology for its expression; and no less wonderful that this youth, roaming the woods alone, should command such skill in the use of blank verse, the resonant voice of which has eluded many a clever versifier. In the face of this achievement, we can only recall the general precocity of Bryant's earlier youth and his enjoyment of the poet Cowper.¹

The Inscription.

Similar comment may be passed upon the second of these two poems, the Inscription for the Entrance to a Wood. Though expressive of a lighter, less solemn mood, it does not fall in excellence below its companion piece. It speaks of calm, tranquillity, and deep contentment. The forest shades

"Are still the abode of gladness; the thick roof
Of green and stirring branches is alive
And musical with birds. . . .
. . . The Rivulet
Sends forth glad sounds, and tripping o'er its bed
Of pebbly sands, or leaping down the rocks,
Seems, with continuous laughter, to rejoice
In its own being."

The Prose Essay.

A prompt request for further contributions brought forth in the following year an essay on American Poetry, which is entitled to rank at least as the first attempt by an American writer in the field of literary criticism. In it the writer emphasized the truth that for a literature to be national, it must be natural; and must originiate, without imitation, in the sincere personal expression of individual genius.

Personal experiences which deeply concerned the poet occurred in quick succession. In 1820, Dr. Bryant died, and Bryant's Hymn to Death was completed by a noble tribute to his father's memory -- infused with more of personal feeling than had characterized the poems just described. In June of the following year came the poet's marriage to Miss Fanny Fairchild, a farmer's daughter, whose virtues had inspired