55. 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 is dead that slumbers,
and things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art; to dust returnest,
Dust thou art; to dust returnest,
5 comments:
What a beautiful poem. I love finding things that make us pause and think, perhaps bring a faint smile to our lips. Lovin the picture of Joey. Rachael took amazing pictures of your Joey. Don't you just know it was all in His plan when you see them! As hard as it is I try to remember that. As ever your friend Sharon
I love this photo of Joey. The way he is looking intently into the fire, the sparks and lightrising from it, all are beautiful.
What a lovely, lovely poem. I couldn't have started my day off in a better way than to have read those too true words....
the combination of this poen and Joey's photo is moving...
That's right..the soul is not made of dust. It is. We are.
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