The Day Is Done

¹The day is done, and the darkness

²Falls from the wings of Night,

³As a feather is wafted downward

⁴From an eagle in his flight.

⁵I see the lights of the village

⁶Gleam through the rain and the mist,

⁷And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me

⁸That my soul cannot resist:

⁹A feeling of sadness and longing,

¹⁰That is not akin to pain,

¹¹And resembles sorrow only

¹²As the mist resembles the rain.

¹³Come, read to me some poem,

¹⁴Some simple and heartfelt lay,

¹⁵That shall soothe this restless feeling,

¹⁶And banish the thoughts of day.

¹⁷Read from some humbler poet,

¹⁸Whose songs gushed from his heart,

¹⁹As showers from the clouds of summer,

²⁰Or tears from the eyelids start;

²¹Such songs have power to quiet

²²The restless pulse of care,

²³And come like the benediction

²⁴That follows after prayer.

²⁵Then read from the treasured volume

²⁶The poem of thy choice,

²⁷And lend to the rhyme of the poet

²⁸The beauty of thy voice.

²⁹And the night shall be filled with music,

³⁰And the cares, that infest the day,

³¹Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,

³²And as silently steal away.