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• Artiste: Sea Nymphs, The
• Titre: The Psalm Of Life
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Tell me not in mournful numbers "Life is but an empty dream" For the soul is dead that slumbers 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" Wasn't 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 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 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 Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of-- Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart-- Let us, then, be up and doing With a heart for any fate Still achieving, still pursuing Learn to labor and to wait