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A Psalm of Life TELL me not, in mournful numbers, | |
Life is but an empty dream!— | |
For the soul is dead that slumbers, | |
And things are not what they seem. | |
Life is real! Life is earnest! | 5 |
And the grave is not its goal; | |
Dust thou art, to dust returnest, | |
Was not spoken of the soul. | |
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, | |
Is our destined end or way; | 10 |
But to act, that each to-morrow | |
Find us farther than to-day. | |
Art is long, and Time is fleeting, | |
And our hearts, though stout and brave, | |
Still, like muffled drums, are beating | 15 |
Funeral marches to the grave. | |
In the world's broad field of battle, | |
In the bivouac of Life, | |
Be not like dumb, driven cattle! | |
Be a hero in the strife! | 20 |
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! | |
Let the dead Past bury its dead! | |
Act,—act in the living Present! | |
Heart within, and God o'erhead! | |
Lives of great men all remind us | 25 |
We can make our lives sublime, | |
And, departing, leave behind us | |
Footprints on the sands of time; | |
Footprints, that perhaps another, | |
Sailing o'er life's solemn main, | 30 |
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, | |
Seeing, shall take heart again. | |
Let us, then, be up and doing, | |
With a heart for any fate; | |
Still achieving, still pursuing, | 35 |
Learn to labor and to wait. |
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