<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409410" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Day is Done, The</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The day is done, and the darkness<br> Falls from the wings of Night,<br>As a feather is wafted downward<br> From an eagle in his flight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I see the lights of the village<br> Gleam through the rain and the mist,<br>And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me<br> That my soul cannot resist:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A feeling of sadness and longing,<br> That is not akin to pain,<br>And resembles sorrow only<br> As the mist resembles the rain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Come, read to me some poem,<br> Some simple and heartfelt lay,<br>That shall soothe this restless feeling,<br> And banish the thoughts of day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not from the grand old masters,<br> Not from the bards sublime,<br>Whose distant footsteps echo<br> Through the corridors of Time.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For, like strains of martial music,<br> Their mighty thoughts suggest<br>Life's endless toil and endeavor;<br> And to-night I long for rest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Read from some humbler poet,<br> Whose songs gushed from his heart,<br>As showers from the clouds of summer,<br> Or tears from the eyelids start;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who, through long days of labor,<br> And nights devoid of ease,<br>Still heard in his soul the music<br> Of wonderful melodies.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Such songs have power to quiet<br> The restless pulse of care,<br>And come like the benediction<br> That follows after prayer.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then read from the treasured volume<br> The poem of thy choice,<br>And lend to the rhyme of the poet<br> The beauty of thy voice.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the night shall be filled with music<br> And the cares, that infest the day,<br>Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,<br> And as silently steal away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Wadsworth+Longfellow">Henry Wadsworth Longfellow</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409410" data-title="Day is Done, The de Henry Wadsworth Longfellow" data-description="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 ..."></div> </div> </div>

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