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