The last stanza of William Cullen Bryant's Thanatopsis. It touched something inside of me.

                                  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.