A PSALM OF LIFE.

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.

THE BUILDERS.

ALL are architects of Fate,

Working in these walls of Time; Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. Nothing useless is, or low;

Each thing in its place is best; And what seems but idle show Strengthens and supports the rest. For the structure that we raise, Time is with materials filled; Our to-days and yesterdays

Are the blocks with which we build

Truly shape and fashion these;

Leave no yawning gaps between; Think not, because no man sees,

Such things will remain unseen. In the elder days of Art,

Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part;

For the Gods see everywhere.

Let us do our work as well,

Both the unseen and the seen; Make the house, where Gods may dwell,

Beautiful, entire, and clean. Else our lives are incomplete, Standing in these walls of Time, Broken stairways, where the feet Stumble as they seek to climb. Build to-day, then, strong and sure, With a firm and ample base; And ascending and secure

Shall to-morrow find its place. Thus alone can we attain

To those turrets, where the eye Sees the world as one vast plain. And one boundless reach of sky.

trees,

Heard the lapping of the water,

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Sounds of music, words of wonder;
"Minne-wawa!" said the pine-trees,
Mudway-aushka!" said the water.
Saw the fire-fly, Wah-wah-taysee,
Flitting through the dusk of evening,
With the twinkle of its candle
Lighting up the brakes and bushes,
And he sang the song of children,
Sang the song Nokomis taught him:
"Wah-wah-tay see, little fire-fly,
Little, flitting, white-fire insect,
Little, dancing, white-fire creature,

Saw the moon rise from the water Rippling, rounding from the water, Saw the flecks and shadows on it, Whispered, "What is that, Noko

mis?"

And the good Nokomis answered:
"Once a warrior, very angry,
Seized his grandmother, and threw
her

Up into the sky at midnight;
Right against the moon he threw her
'T is her body that you see there."
Saw the rainbow in the heaven,
In the eastern sky, the rainbow,