"Teach me to live, that I may dread The grave as little as my bed"

A desire for guidance on how to truly live is woven into the lines by Thomas Ken, addressing the often troubling human relationship with death. There is an earnest pleading for wisdom an instruction on living that would render the notion of dying as familiar and unthreatening as the simple act of going to sleep. The “grave” represents that ultimate unknown, frequently associated with fear, sorrow, or resignation, while the “bed” symbolizes rest, comfort, and the end of each day’s journey, approached without trepidation.

This juxtaposition points to a yearning for such spiritual or philosophical grounding that mortality loses its sting. Learning to live well encompasses not only the cultivation of virtue, acceptance, and appreciation for life’s fleeting beauty, but also preparing the soul for its eventual departure. By embodying integrity and gratitude, nurturing relationships, and making peace within oneself, a person lessens the pull and terror of the grave. Death becomes not an adversary, but a natural close, approached as calmly as the nightly retreat to rest.

Underlying the request is a wish for transformation a life so well-lived, so suffused with purpose and peace, that its ending arouses no greater apprehension than sleep. It urges the reader to consider what fear of death says about the nature of one’s life. If the day is spent meaningfully, and the spirit is fortified with faith or acceptance, the distinction between ending a day and ending a life grows faint.

Ken’s words suggest an ideal: that mortality need not overshadow existence with dread. Instead, by learning how to live actively, thoughtfully, and preparedly one may anticipate death not with alarm, but with the tranquility reserved for a well-earned rest. It is a call to live in such a way that life’s sunset, whenever it arrives, feels like a gentle transition rather than a loss.