Without Face - Sands Of Time lyrics

Tell me not in mornful 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, dust returnest," was not spoken of the soul. And separting leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time Not enjoyment and not sorrow is our destined end or way; but to act that each tomorrow finds us farther than today And departing leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time Not enjoyment and not sorrow is our destined end or way; but act that each tomorrow find us farther than today 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.