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" 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, "
Elocution, Or, Mental and Vocal Philosophy: Involving the Principles of ... - Страница 103
по C. P. Bronson - 1845 - 320 страници
Пълен достъп - Информация за книгата

Readings in science and literature

Daniel Scrymgeour - 1851
...Romans were like brothers In the brave days of old. MACAULAY. A PSALM OF LIFE. Tell me not in mournful numbers Life is but an empty dream ! For the soul...that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. 1 See note 3, p. 231. Life is real — Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal; " Dust thou...

The North British review

1852
...remember rightly, by Tennyson, or even, except for ridicule, by Wordsworth. " Tell me not in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream ! For the soul...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,...

The British Millennial Harbinger, Том 5

1852
...Christ." A PSALM OF LIFE. 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...what they seem. Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its gonl: " Bust thou art, to dust returnest," Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment,...

Cottage verse; a collection of hymns and spiritual songs, ed. by J. Jones

Cottage verse - 1852
...thousands are dashed in the tide. Sound the loud timbrel &c. 234. Human Life. Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream ! For the soul...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 to the soul. • Not enjoyment,...

The Poets and Poetry of America: To the Middle of the Nineteenth Century

Rufus Wilmot Griswold - 1852 - 550 страници
...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...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,...

Voices of the Night, and Other Poems

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - 1852 - 228 страници
...Life is real ! Life is earnest ! And the grave is not its goal ; " Dust thou art, to dust rcturnest," Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not...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,...

Choice descriptive poetry, selected by a lady

Choice descriptive poetry - 1852
...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...destined end or way ; But to act that each to-morrow Find us further than to-day. Trust no future, howe'er pleasant ! Let the dead past bury its dead !...

Eclectic Magazine: Foreign Literature, Том 27

John Holmes Agnew, Walter Hilliard Bidwell - 1852
...Life is real ! Life iз earnest ! And (lie grave is not its goal ! Dust thou art, to dust veturnest, T# t BՏ|R P F | T Q ST w &طb <M H WsÎ 6 ;s о: &6 b6< ̸ L ģn q:f ^ ]R^l Hp to-шorrow Find us further than to-day. " Art is long and time is fleeting, And our hearts though stout...

Fancies of a Whimsical Man

Frederic Townsend - 1852 - 281 страници
...singing unto myself, the first and sixth verses of Longfellow's Psalm of Life. Tell me not, in mournful numbers, » Life is but an empty dream ! For the soul...that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant, Let the dead Past bury its dead ! Act — act in the living Present...

Selections from the Poets ...: For the Use of Schools

1852 - 183 страници
...Dust thou art, to dust returnest," Was not spoken of the soul. A PSALM OF LIFE. 109 Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way ; But to...that each to-morrow Finds us farther than to-day. Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums,...




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