Dark and Dreary

Today is one of those dark and dreary rainy days. The phrase dark and dreary sprang to mind as soon as my feet hit the floor this morning and I was thinking that’s a famous literary phrase. I wanted to say Edgar Allan Poe, but, no, he’s the once upon a midnight dreary guy.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was the dark and dreary guy.

The Rainy Day (1841)

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.

Henry was apparently having a bad day on a cosmic level. I’m just sick of the dark and dreary (and rain) on a local level. But, like Henry, I’m sure the sun is still shining behind the clouds. It might come back into view. Eventually. In a few days. Maybe.