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.
This is the final section of William Cullen Bryant's "Thanatopsis", a meditation on death.
I had to memorize this section in 9th grade homeroom English for my teacher, Mr. Robert C. Richardson. He was a fine southern gentleman who also served as mayor of a nearby town called Simpsonville. Every student of his I have ever known was very grateful to have been taught by him. He was, unreservedly, the best teacher I had.