Day is Done, The Analysis

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.

.: :.

The Day is Done by, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Longfellow describes with accurate precision, that feeling of fatigue and exhaustion we feel at the end of a difficult and trying day in his poem "The Day is Done." He speaks of being mentally spent, and his need to focus on things other than his work.
Life's Balancing Act
Work is a part of life, as mist is a part of rain. Longfellow makes it clear that we need to distinguish between the two. Life should not be all work, and rain doesn't only fall as mist. There is great sadness and longing without the balance of quiet at the end the day.
Feeding the Spirit
Longfellow enjoys poetry, as he asks his lover or friend to read to him. Then he shares what he would like to hear, after having worked so hard all day. He wants to hear about love and the beauty of life. He doesn't want to listen to poems from proud poets trying to prove themselves. Longfellow doesn't want to decipher the meaning of a poem. He doesn't want to work that hard after having worked all day.
Simple Pleasures
Instead, Longfellow requests a poem of simplicity which will carry him off to another place. He wants to be able to close his eyes, feeling the humility of the poet who expresses peaceful serenity. He wants to be taken away by the sound of his lover's voice as she reads. He needs to let go of his cares from the day, and tune in to the music of life.
Humble Indulgence
Longfellow wants to hear poetry from someone expressing sentiments from the heart. He doesn't want to hear a pompous poem written by an arrogant author. He wants to indulge in the joys of humility, expressed with unguarded love.
Quiet Reflection
Longfellow wants to unwind to the melody of his lover's voice. He wants to drift away into the depths of his soul, as he does when he prays, and listens to the inner stillness in the very depths of his soul. The work day is over. Longfellow is ready to embrace the night.
The Day is Done
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 come 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 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.

| Posted on 2009-11-15 | by a guest

.: :.

No requests for explanation or general short comments allowed.

| Posted on 2009-05-05 | by a guest

.: :.

I 2 want the summary of the poem ' THE DAY IS DONE' by Longfellow. PLS help me out....
GUest

| Posted on 2008-06-17 | by a guest

.: analysis of hymn to the n :.

pls i want the analysis or summary of the poem"hymn to the night" & "the day is done" by longfellow.

| Posted on 2008-04-08 | by a guest