A PSALM OF LIFE

- Longfellow

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 further 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 bivouse of Life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle!

Be a hero in the strife!

Tust no Future, howe'er pleasant!

Let the dead Past bury it's 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 sublim,

And, departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time;-

Footprints, that perhaps another,

Saling o'er life's solemn nain,

A forlorn and ship wrecked 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.

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it was so famouse poem when i was young to learn english.

so, i want know that everyone who live in this generation like this poem.