Author Richard Henry Dana Day came again; and up he rose, A weary man, from his lone board; Nor merry feast, nor sweet repose, Did that long night afford.No shadowy-coming night, to bring him rest,—No dawn, to chase the darkness of his breast! Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments