<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409696" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Day is Done</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 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 the 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 the strains of martial music, <br>Their mighty throughts suggest <br>Life's endless toil and endeavor; <br>And tonight I long for rest. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Read from the 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 the treasured volume <br>The poem of my 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=409696" data-title="The Day is Done de Henry Wadsworth Longfellow" data-description="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 s..."></div> </div> </div>

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