Welcome to another "Fervid Friday."
You know folks, I'm not a poetry kind of guy.
I did my share of studying poems in school but I never found the spark to dig in deeper.
I guess I got my inspiration from the lyrics of the songs on the records I have listened to.
I guess I consider these to be my poetry.
My favorite lyricists: David Byrne, Elvis Costello, Neil Peart and Robert Plant.
Have you ever heard of them?
But I did run across a real poem this week that I would like to share with you as your inspiration on this wonderful "Fervid Friday."
It's from an old geezer named Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
He lived between 1807–1882 but the messages of many of his poems are very relevant today.
I guess you could say he's an "oldy but goody."
Rock On Hank !!!
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!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our 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,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,—act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
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 pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
It would probably make some great lyrics for a song.
Longfellow, a professor, translator, and poet, became the first American to truly earn his living as a poet.
His writing helped to forge the historic identity of America and celebrated the cultures of Europe.
The song-like poems brought awareness of natural beauty and freshness to old and familiar traditions.
The fruits of his imagination were famous during his lifetime, nearly forgotten thereafter, and are being rediscovered today.
He's the only American recognized in Poet's Corner, Westminster Abbey, London.
If you found this poem and/or my blog interesting or helpful, I bet your friends would to.
Please forward it to them or tell them about it by sending them to www.survive55.com
The more Baby Boomers we can help the better place we make this world !!!
Thanks for joining me..........................................................