29 September, 2017

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!
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; 
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 
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! 
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 
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 
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 
Learn to labor and to wait."

G. Longfellow