In broad daylight, and at noon,
Yesterday I saw the moon
Sailing high, but faint and white,
As a schoolboy's paper kite.
In broad daylight, yesterday,
I read a poet's mystic lay;
And it seemed to me at most
As a phantom, or a ghost.
But at length the feverish day
Like a passion died away,
And the night, serene and still,
Fell on village, vale, and hill.
Then the moon, in all her pride,
Like a spirit glorified,
Filled and overflowed the night
With revelations of her light.
And the Poet's song again
Passed like music through my brain;
Night interpreted to me
All its grace and mystery.
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Comments2I've been browsing through some of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poems for my English assignment, and this one really struck me. It contrasted day and night, giving them profound and unique personalities. It’s beautiful how it describes a poet’s work blooming under the realm of night-time magic. What a vivid exploration of time's changing face!
Wow, this was a deep one. It's like the poet was saying that you can only really understand and appreciate certain things when everything is quiet and still, like at nighttime. It kinda made me reflect on how much I miss out on 'cause I'm always rushing around.