A Psalm of Life — Summary

WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN SAID TO THE PSALMIST.

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!

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 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 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 labor and to wait.

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The young speaker refuses to accept the psalmist’s mournful idea that life is an empty dream. To him, the soul is dead only if we slumber in passivity. He believes life is achingly real and earnest, not a path to the grave for the soul but a call to constant action, so that each tomorrow finds us further along. Even as our hearts beat like muffled funeral drums, we should treat the world as a bivouac—not as dumb, driven cattle, but as heroes in the fight. He urges us to let the past go, ignore the distant future, and pour our energy into the present, with courage inside and God above. Great lives leave footprints on the sands of time that might give heart to some struggling soul. The mood is both sobering and bracing: mortality is acknowledged, but that only fuels a determined, hopeful urgency. The final charge—learn to labor and to wait—makes clear that the struggle is long, but we are built for it.

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