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by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


The day is doneand 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. -

Comeread 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. -

Forlike 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; -

Whothrough 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 caresthat infest the day

Shall fold their tentslike the Arabs

And as silently steal away. - -