Sakidatta Shiro
(?)Community Member
Offline
- Posted: Sun, 22 May 2005 00:48:09 +0000
Guess That Poem
Guess the title or the name of the person who wrote it. 5 gold prize to the one who can get either, ten gold if both are correct.
Rules
exclaim No copying other peoples answers
exclaim No Cussing
exclaim No Stretching page
exclaim Only one guess is allowed per post(While guessing type Title: or Author:
Current Poem
<center>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 earnist!
And the grave is not its goal,
Dust thou art to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of soul.
Art is long and time is fleeting,
And our hearts though stout and brave,
Still like muffled drums are beating,
Funral marches to the grave.
In the worlds broad feild of battle,
In the bivouac of life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle,
Be a hero at the strife.
Trust no future, how 'ver pleasant,
Let the dead past bury its dead,
Act-Act in the living present,
Heart within and god over head.
Lives of great men all remind us,
We can make our lives sublime,
And departing, leave behind us
Foot prints in the sands of time.
Foot prints that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life saliman,
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 pursueing,
Learn to labor and to wait. </center>
This is one of my favorites
Guess the title or the name of the person who wrote it. 5 gold prize to the one who can get either, ten gold if both are correct.
Rules
exclaim No copying other peoples answers
exclaim No Cussing
exclaim No Stretching page
exclaim Only one guess is allowed per post(While guessing type Title: or Author:
Current Poem
<center>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 earnist!
And the grave is not its goal,
Dust thou art to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of soul.
Art is long and time is fleeting,
And our hearts though stout and brave,
Still like muffled drums are beating,
Funral marches to the grave.
In the worlds broad feild of battle,
In the bivouac of life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle,
Be a hero at the strife.
Trust no future, how 'ver pleasant,
Let the dead past bury its dead,
Act-Act in the living present,
Heart within and god over head.
Lives of great men all remind us,
We can make our lives sublime,
And departing, leave behind us
Foot prints in the sands of time.
Foot prints that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life saliman,
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 pursueing,
Learn to labor and to wait. </center>
This is one of my favorites
