A Psalm of Life

¹Tell me not, in mournful numbers,

²Life is but an empty dream!

³For the soul is dead that slumbers,

⁴And things are not what they seem.

⁵Life is real! Life is earnest!

⁶And the grave is not its goal;

⁷Dust thou art, to dust returnest,

⁸Was not spoken of the soul.

⁹Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

¹⁰Is our destined end or way;

¹¹But to act, that each to-morrow

¹²Find us farther than to-day.

¹³Art is long, and Time is fleeting,

¹⁴And our hearts, though stout and brave,

¹⁵Still, like muffled drums, are beating

¹⁶Funeral marches to the grave.

¹⁷In the world's broad field of battle,

¹⁸In the bivouac of Life,

¹⁹Be not like dumb, driven cattle!

²⁰Be a hero in the strife!

²¹Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!

²²Let the dead Past bury its dead!

²³Act, — act in the living Present!

²⁴Heart within, and God o'erhead!

²⁵Lives of great men all remind us

²⁶We can make our lives sublime,

²⁷And, departing, leave behind us

²⁸Footprints on the sands of time; —

²⁹Footprints, that perhaps another,

³⁰Sailing o'er life's solemn main,

³¹A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,

³²Seeing, shall take heart again.

³³Let us, then, be up and doing,

³⁴With a heart for any fate;

³⁵Still achieving, still pursuing,

³⁶Learn to labor and to wait.