The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of night
As a feather wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.
I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me
That my soul cannot resist:
A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.
Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of the day.
Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of time.
For, like the strains of martial music,
Their mighty throughts suggest
Life's endless toil and endeavor;
And tonight I long for rest.
Read from the humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;
Who, through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.
Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.
Then read the treasured volume
The poem of my choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.
And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.
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Comments
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This and Thomas Hard's CHANNEL FIRING are my choices as the two greatest poems ever written
hi, this poem (by Longfellow) in my opinion almost perfectly decries life as it is lived in New Orleans where I lived until Katrina expelled me. The last four stanzas nail the soulfulness that is unique there and riveted to the essences of the greatly diverse people there. It clearly portrays New Orleans life. The last stanza affirms the way a life is lived there - for it is the only alternative to the decay and misery and hopelessness that is the reality there.
*** read it several more times slowly and thoughtfully and you will or at least may begin to get a taste of the sorid wonderful soulful lives that stir around in that pot that is the steamy swampy raunchy rotting river city we all know, love and call New Orleans ***
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this is my favorite poem ever! I've loved it ever since I first read it years ago. I love the simplicity and the flow. I love the way he captures that feeling of an unknown longing, that at times creeps unbidden into the soul. And all he needed really was the voice of his company and content poet's words to make him feel better... (sighs) this is a great poem
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restlessness, restlessness...this poem makes me itch inwardly...but there's something to it...what is it, that's what i'd like to know...
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