Days by Ralph Waldo Emerson
"Days" is a poem written by Ralph Waldo Emerson. This poem is about the narrator watching the days pass him by. He feels as if he is missing out on his own life while watching others. He is, perhaps, also lazy. Emerson personifies "Days" by giving it actions that people would have, such as giving people something and calling it a "her".
This poem is written as a single stanza with eleven lines. The lines are not rhymed, but they are written in iambic-pentameter to keep a rhythm.
Days Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days, Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes, And marching single in an endless file, Bring diadems and fagots in their hands. To each they offer gifts after his will, Bread, kingdoms, stars, and sky that holds them all. I, in my pleached garden, watched the pomp, Forgot my morning wishes, hastily Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day Turned and departed silent. I, too late, Under her solemn fillet saw the score
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Transcendentalism, 19th Century