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The Day Is Done

Published on Nov 18, 2015

This is my poem called, "the day is done".

PRESENTATION OUTLINE

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.

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I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist,

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And the feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist:

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A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain

And resembles sorrow only As mist resembles rain

Come, read to me some poem, Some simple heartfelt lay

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That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day

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Not from the grand old masters, Not from the bards sublime,

Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time

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For, like strains of martial music, Their mighty thoughts suggest

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Life's endless toil and endeavor; And tonight i long for rest

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Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart,

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As showers from the clouds of summer, and tears from the eyelids start;

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Who, through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease

Still heard in his soul of music Of wonderful melodies

Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care

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And comes like the benediction That follows after prayer

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Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice

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And lend to the ryhme 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 silently steal away.