A Psalm of Life
by H. W. Longfellow
"Life that shall send
A challenge to its end,
And when it comes, say, Welcom, friend"
1
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an emty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
2
Life is real--life is earnes--
And the grave is not its goal:
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
3
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destin'd end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
4
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.
5
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!
6
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act--act in the glorious Present!
Heart within, and God o'er head!
7
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footsteps on the sands of time.
8
Footsteps, that, perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwreck'd brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
9
Let us then be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
