The Day Is Done |
|
The day is done, and the darkness | |
Falls from the wings of Night, | |
As a feather is 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 day. | |
Not from the grand old masters, | |
Not from the bards sublime, | |
Whose distant footsteps echo | |
Through the corridors of Time. | |
For, like strains of martial music, | |
Their mighty thoughts suggest | |
Life’s endless toil and endeavor; | |
And to-night I long for rest. | |
Read from some 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 from the treasured volume | |
The poem of thy 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. | |
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | |
. | |
On This Day In: | |
2023 | Webs |
2022 | Against Considerable Odds |
2021 | Only 10 |
Just A Hopeless Case (Can’t Get Used To Losing You) | |
2020 | What We Know About Ourselves |
2019 | But It Feels Dirtier Lately |
2018 | I Remember Some More Than Others |
2017 | Creating Reality |
2016 | Come, Read To Me Some Poem |
2015 | Exceeding Service |
2014 | Still Learning |
Hospitality | |
2013 | Execution Not Intensity |
2012 | Charles Carroll Of Carrollton (The Only Catholic Founder) |
2011 | Life Works |
Pay Like Hell | |
Prosperity Finds Its Way Up | |
Come, Read To Me Some Poem
March 6, 2016 by kmabarrett
Inspired by your post and Longfellow’s request to:
“Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
…Read from some humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed from his heart,”
I humbly offer this:
A Beautiful Blessing
What a beautiful blessing
That each sunset’s delight
Brings the glorious birth
Of another new night!
Hi Russ,
Okay. Now you’re just showing off!
LOL 🙂
KMAB