Phillis Wheatley’s poem is a consolation for a couple mourning the loss of the lady’s brother, sister, and young daughter. The speaker first fixes her eyes on Death’s domain—a vast, crowded graveyard where all human history ends in dust. There’s no softening the bleakness. But then she turns directly to the grieving mother: stop crying, she says, for tears can’t change death’s rule. Instead, she urges her to give her loved ones back to God, who gave them life. The poem’s emotional center is the child Avis, now imagined as a soul released into heaven’s joy, leaning forward with love to beckon the mother toward an immortal bliss unknown on earth. The mood shifts from somber resignation to a tender, upward-looking hope, replacing helpless grief with a vision of reunion beyond the skies.
To a Gentleman and Lady on the Death of the Lady's Brother and Sister — Summary
On Death's domain intent I fix my eyes, Where human nature in vast ruin lies, With pensive mind I search the drear abode, Where the great conqu'ror has his spoils bestow'd; There there the offspring of six thousand years In endless numbers to my view appears: Whole kingdoms in his gloomy den are thrust, And nations mix with their primeval dust: Insatiate still he gluts the ample tomb; His is the present, his the age to come See here a brother, here a sister spread, And a sweet daughter mingled with the dead.
But, Madam, let your grief be laid aside, And let the fountain of your tears be dry'd, In vain they flow to wet the dusty plain, Your sighs are wafted to the skies in vain, Your pains they witness, but they can no more, While Death reigns tyrant o'er this mortal shore.
The glowing stars and silver queen of light At last must perish in the gloom of night: Resign thy friends to that Almighty hand, Which gave them life, and bow to his command; Thine Avis give without a murm'ring heart, Though half thy soul be fated to depart. To shining guards consign thine infant care To waft triumphant through the seas of air: Her soul enlarg'd to heav'nly pleasure springs, She feeds on truth and uncreated things. Methinks I hear her in the realms above, And leaning forward with a filial love, Invite you there to share immortal bliss Unknown, untasted in a state like this. With tow'ring hopes, and growing grace arise, And seek beatitude beyond the skies.