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”