Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (A Psalm of Life by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
Did you read them?
- A Christmas Card From Me To You (A Littl.., mary douglas
- Houdini's Box, Tiffany Alexis
- analogy, Doyen Lingua
- My Eyes Cried and Begged, Fatima Nusairat
- I know you must get success, gajanan mishra
- Once Ambushed, Richard Provencher
- *XIV*- To Love, Leslie Guylee Cron
- Working Poem, W.B. Keckler
- Horizons, Stephen Bishop
- I Wear a Hat, W.B. Keckler