A RAINY DAY
Thursday
December 5, 2013 10:14 am
I
had a doctor's appointment early this morning and when I stepped
outside I was unaware that a hard rain had been falling. I usually
love the rain, except for certain rains which causes me to be
inexplicably sad. I wonder if something bad happened in the rain when
I was too young to actually have a conscious memory of the event?
Yet, somewhere deep inside our minds where nothing is ever forgotten my subconscious somehow dredges that up which in turn evokes a
deep sadness inside me... because it is just certain rains which
causes this feeling.
Longfellow
probably has one of the more famous poems on rain and sadness, life
and death... it is simply (yet aptly) called, The Rainy Day. There is a very famous line in that poem and the thought expressed in that
line is also similar to a specific Bible passage, “... into each life
some rain must fall...”
The
day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering 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 mouldering 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.
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering 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 mouldering 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.
Many
poets led sad lives and you can tell that by their lyrics and
sonnets. His second wife, Frances, died as a result of an accidental
fire and Longfellow himself was badly burned trying to save her. He
loved her so much and the loss was so great he felt he would lose his
mind. He once wrote that he was, “... inwardly bleeding to
death...” After her death he wrote the poem I reproduced above, The
Rainy Day. Notice what causes his hurt and abiding sadness... “...
my thoughts still cling to the mouldering past...” Then, eighteen
years after Frances died he wrote: Cross of Snow
In
the long, sleepless watches of the night,
A gentle face--the face of one long dead--
Looks at me from the wall, where round its head
The night-lamp casts a halo of pale light.
Here in this room she died, and soul more white
Never through martyrdom of fire was led
To its repose; nor can in books be read
The legend of a life more benedight.
There is a mountain in the distant West
That, sun-defying, in its deep ravines
Displays a cross of snow upon its side.
Such is the cross I wear upon my breast
These eighteen years, through all the changing scenes
And seasons, changeless since the day she died.
A gentle face--the face of one long dead--
Looks at me from the wall, where round its head
The night-lamp casts a halo of pale light.
Here in this room she died, and soul more white
Never through martyrdom of fire was led
To its repose; nor can in books be read
The legend of a life more benedight.
There is a mountain in the distant West
That, sun-defying, in its deep ravines
Displays a cross of snow upon its side.
Such is the cross I wear upon my breast
These eighteen years, through all the changing scenes
And seasons, changeless since the day she died.
Apparently
he was always thinking about his lost love and one day he saw a
picture in a book of the western mountains. Evidently snow had fallen
and as it was melting away all that appeared to be left of the snow
was in the shape of a cross... so he wrote of that while lamenting
the loss of the love of his life!
However,
it is not only through death that great love can be lost... there are other
ways. Yeah, the rain falling today is sad, very sad.
posted by Robin Johnson @ 10:14 AM
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