“The Rainy Day” By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (for a Rainy Day)

“In to Each Life Some Rain Must Fall,” from the Poem, “The Rainy Day” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Life of Longfellow

Longfellow the second-oldest in a family of eight children, was a teacher at Bowdoin College in Maine, and later at Harvard University.Longfellow’s first wife Mary died in 1831 following a miscarriage, while they were traveling in Europe. The couple had been married for only four years. He did not write for several years following her death, but she inspired his poem “Footsteps of Angels.”

In 1843, after years of trying to win her over for nearly a decade, Longfellow married his second wife Frances. The two had six children together. During their courtship, Longfellow often walked from his home in Cambridge, crossing the Charles River, to Frances’ family home in Boston. The bridge he crossed during those walks is now officially known as the Longfellow Bridge.

But his second marriage ended in tragedy as well; in 1861 Frances died of burns she suffered after her dress caught fire. Longfellow was himself burned trying to save her and grew his famous beard to cover the scars left behind on his face.He died in 1882, a month after people around the country celebrated his 75th birthday.

Body of Work

Longfellow’s best-known works include epic poems such as “The Song of Hiawatha,” and “Evangeline,” and poetry collections such as “Tales of a Wayside Inn.” He also wrote well-known ballad-style poems such as “The Wreck of the Hesperus,” and “Endymion.”

He was the first American writer to translate Dante’s “Divine Comedy.” Longfellow’s admirers included President Abraham Lincoln, and fellow writers Charles Dickens and Walt Whitman.

Analysis of ‘The Rainy Day’

This 1842 poem has the famous line “Into each life some rain must fall,” meaning that everyone will experience difficulty and heartache at some point. The “day” is a metaphor for “life.” Written after the death of his first wife and before he married his second wife, “The Rainy Day” has been interpreted as a deeply personal look into Longfellow’s psyche and state of mind.

Here is the complete text of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s “The Rainy Day.”

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the moldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the moldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast
And the days are dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

Something to Think About – Keeping the Magic of Romance Alive Every Day by Sally Cronin

Sally, this is just beautiful! Reblogging on Pen and Paper!

Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

This post appeared on Jacquie Biggar’s website last year.I thought you might like to read again on this day of love and romance….

Not everyone celebrates Valentine’s Day and I believe that romance is something that infuses every day of a relationship, but if receiving a card, or some roses, reminds someone of how much they are loved, then this is a good day.

My thanks to Jacquie for inviting me to share my views on romance. It is one of the elements of our lives which is universal, and much sort after. People often ask what the secret to a happy relationship is… darned if I know.  All I can offer you is some of the little things I have come to appreciate over the last 50 odd years of dating and relationships. Make that 55 as I had a crush on Peter Birch at primary school age…

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Talking Death and Dying with Children – Part 1

Jennie, a teacher of young children, shows us a wonderful way to talk about death to children and most importantly, how to listen to children’s questions regarding death. Thank you, Jennie.

A Teacher's Reflections

“Jennie, come quick!  You need to come right now!”

Vivian was wide-eyed and worried.  I knew this was serious.  I sprinted with her over to the bushes and around to the backside.  There lay a bunny.  It looked to be sleeping and very peaceful.

“What’s wrong?  Why isn’t the bunny moving?”, asked Vivian

I said, “Thebunny isn’t alive.  It’s dead.”

Vivian didn’t know what to say.  By now, other children were curious and coming over to see.  Another teacher thought I should take the children away from the scene.  After all, it was a dead animal.

I did just the opposite.

I called all the children over to see.  It’s okay to see death.  Children needed to see, to ask questions, and to be there.  It was up to me to guide the situation and open a discussion. First we looked at the fur and talked about how…

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Night Life

This is a hauntingly emotional short fiction story, and then go to the video at the end of the story – just beautiful. Stunning!

House of Heart

From my  window   a sliver of  moon casts a haze over the water and I listen to the  rush of soft waves. Those  creatures beneath the depths,  do they sleep,  dream?  If  parted do they grieve?  Down the street  I can see  lights from  an all night store, a man stands behind the counter.  Cautiously he  slips his hand under his jacket and takes a long swig from a  bottle.   A group of young thugs gather outside the storefront.   I imagine them  harming the storekeeper.  Distracted by the young whore taking shelter in a doorway,  they laugh at her and whisper. Oblivious to her vulnerability she sleeps as though she has never heard of  birds of prey that swoop down with unblinking eyes, hungry beaks, and talons poised for butchery.   I watch closely in case I need to call out a warning  but losing interest they disappear into the…

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How Fish Eggs are Like Fiction

Short story writers will love this article. It is filled with very useful information, and all the dos and don’ts as well. I took notes!

A Writer's Path

by Richard Risemberg

After a long, dry spell, I suddenly began placing stories in small-press magazines this year, even some that paid in cash! Since last winter, I have “sold” – sometimes for pay, sometimes compensated only in honor – I have sold six stories to five magazines.

It all started by accident, but the sort of accident that fate contrives when you help it along.

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Conversations With Colleen: Meet Author, Jaye Marie

Jaye Marie’s author interview with Colleen Chesebro is a delight to read, and many of us can relate to characters who steal our story and write it themselves.

The Faery Whisperer

Hello everyone! This week I’m thrilled to bring you author, Jaye Marie, of the famous blogging duo of Anita Dawes & Jaye Marie. I asked Jaye to pick three or four questions from my huge list HERE. We all aspire to be successful authors and the best way to learn some of the tricks of the trade is to ask questions.

First, please meet my guest, Jaye Marie.

My name is Jaye Marie, and for a long time now I have been half of a writing partnership with my sister-in-law Anita Dawes, who has published several books.

In the past, I have written short stories and poetry, but reading has always been my favourite pastime.The thought of writing my own book always appealed to me, I just never seemed to get around to it. Life has a habit of getting in the way, doesn’t it?

Then, last summer, I…

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For Beauty #Writephoto

This beautiful poem by D. Wallace Peach, I believe, is very representative of our latent views as writers, as we view the glaring changes surrounding us, that are not good for humanity, faith, and our way of life. Comments are greatly appreciated. Thank you.

Myths of the Mirror

For Beauty

For all the destruction
The stains of ruin
Watermarks where rain
Rots through faith
For all the desecration of children
Corruption, extinction, and floating garbage
The bombs and bones and torn and aching flesh
For all the wretched jabber of apathy, short memories
Spittle of hatred, tears of living tragedies
Void of tomorrows

There persists
In the shy dreams of the heart
A spark of yearning
For beauty

In response to The Daily Echo’s Thursday #Writephotoprompt. Photo and prompt by Sue Vincent.

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