I've got a ton of things to do. I decided to share an 'oldie but goodie' just to kick things off on a positive note this fine Wednesday.
It's a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
It goes a little something like this:
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 the goal;
"Dust thou art, to dust returneth,"
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 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, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,-act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!
Lives of all great men 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 labour and to wait.
It's a great little practice to actually type the poem up. I could've done a google search and just copied and pasted it; I decided not to. I will memorize this poem just like the good old days when I joined declamation contests as a kid.
I'll be doing a whole series on 'Inspiration'. I found a magazine from 1964 (in mint condition) that deals with this concept. I'll be borrowing poetry that really speaks to the soul!
Great day, y'all!
