Psalm of Death - Longfellow Rewrite For Ap Lit
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Death is but an empty grave,
And the soul dies in that slumber,
Which will rot its bones away.
Death is merely but a passage,
No, the grave is not its goal;
Beyond the boundaries of age
Hearst you true words of the soul.
'Tis enjoyment and 'tis sorrow
That destined is to fill our days
And 'tis true as we grow older
We find us farther from today;
Yet art is long and time is fleeting
And we must wisely choose to change
How we spend our current meeting
While onward march we to the grave
In the world’s broad field of battle,
And torment of impending death
Be not scared, nor be frightened
Rather lift up high your head
Believe in the coming future
Learn from the passing past
Make your living in the present
Leave handprints on many a heart
Lives of great men are all studied
But truly remembered are only those
Who’ve departing left behind them
A bright smile, of love a dose
Memories, that perhaps another
Pushing through the feats of life
A forlorn and shipwrecked lover
Seeing, once more shall fall in love
Let us then be up and doing, persevering
With a goal deep in our hearts and minds
Still achieving, still pursuing, knowing
With love nothing is far behind
And even though one day we surely
Meet our passage through death and grave
We boldly move on forward trusting
We’ve made the best of every day
And behind us that we loved ones leave
To spread the knowledge we’ve acquired
“Of death afraid you shall not be,
And can become all you aspire”
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