
Look, then, into thine heart, and write!
--
Voices of the Night. Prelude.
Henry Wadsworth 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.
--
A Psalm of Life.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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.
--
A Psalm of Life.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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.
--
A Psalm of Life.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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!
--
A Psalm of Life.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time.
--
A Psalm of Life.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labour and to wait.
--
A Psalm of Life.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There is a reaper whose name is Death,
And with his sickle keen
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
And the flowers that grow between.
--
The Reaper and the Flowers.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The star of the unconquered will.
--
The Light of Stars.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Oh, fear not in a world like this,
And thou shalt know erelong,--
Know how sublime a thing it is
To suffer and be strong.
--
The Light of Stars.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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