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 tomorrow
Finds us farther 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 bivouac of life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no future, however pleasant!
Let the dead past bury its dead!
Act-act in the living present!
Heart within, and god overhead!

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 over 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 labour and to wait.
这是一首充满生机和乐观主义的诗。于1839年发表，当时正是美国资本主义进入蓬勃发展时期，诗人以积极乐观的态度讴歌人生，反映出当时美国人民的心声，当时此诗被套誉为“美国心脏的跳动”。诗人从一开始就告诉人们，生命不是梦幻，它是真实的、严肃的。

字体：大 中 小 [By[龙凌静] in [智力魔法书] at 07:27:34]