Chapter 3 Memorize

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!

(Continued on Page 13.)

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