The Day is Done by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

S3 E6: The Day is Done by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 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. Photography & Recitation by Rebecca Budd Location Vancouver SeaWall, Vancouver, British Columbia Music by Gavin Luke “Finding Melody” Epidemic Soun https://www.epidemicsound.com/track/Xlx96TspQP/