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The life of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was a commanding figure in the cultural life of nineteenthcentury America. Born in Portland, Maine, in 1807, he became a national literary figure by the 1850s, and a world famous personality by the time of his death in 1882.\r
He was a traveler, a linguist, and a romantic who identified with the great traditions of European literature and thought. At the same time, he was rooted in American life and history, which charged his imagination with untried themes and made him ambitious for success.
A Psalm of Life – H. W. Longfellow (Powerful Life Poetry)
Read by Tom O’bedlam
Music by Whitesands
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was an American poet and writer who was revered for his lyric poetry, which often presented stories of mythology and legend. He became one of the most popular American poets of his day and had much success overseas.
I Am! – John Clare (Powerful Life Poetry)
Read by John Davies
John Clare was an English poet who lived most of his life in abject poverty.
His life was marred by bouts of mania and depression, and for the final 23 years of his life, Clare was locked in an insane asylum.
It was here he began to write poetry; ‘I Am’ was Clare’s final elegy before his passing.
Full Poem:
I am yet what I am none cares or knows;
My friends forsake me like a memory lost:
I am the selfconsumer of my woes —
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes
And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life or joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems;
Even the dearest that I loved the best
Are strange—nay, rather, stranger than the rest.
I long for scenes where man hath never trod
A place where woman never smiled or wept
There to abide with my Creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie
The grass below—above the vaulted sky.
depression poem
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The Day Is Done – Henry W. Longfellow (Powerful Life Poetry)
The first video in our new Powerful Life Poetry series: The Day is Done by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Read by John Mydrim Ballantyne Davies.
About the poet:
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (February 27, 1807 – March 24, 1882) was an American poet and educator whose works include \”Paul Revere’s Ride\”, The Song of Hiawatha, and Evangeline. He was the first American to translate Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy and was one of the Fireside Poets from New England. Longfellow wrote many lyric poems known for their musicality and often presenting stories of mythology and legend. He became the most popular American poet of his day and had success overseas
Speaker: John Mydrim Ballantyne Davies
www.thevoice.wales
The Day Is Done
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 18071882
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 tonight 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.
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