A PSALM OF LIFE

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)
A PSALM OF LIFE

      WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN
SAID TO THE PSALMIST

    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 tomorrow
Find us farther than today.

    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!
The 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 labour and to wait.

Author: Sir Godfrey Gregg

Sir Godfrey Gregg is one of the Administrators and managing Director of this site

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.