In “Day’s Ending,” Sara Teasdale’s speaker remembers watching evening come to a mesa ringed by mountains. The mountains seem distant and royal, “aloof as aged kings,” and the stars turn almost painfully bright. There is something awe-inspiring but solitary about the landscape, and the speaker says that living there, even briefly, forced her to grow up. She describes her spirit forging an “iron rule” for her, as if beaten out slowly with cold hammers. The rule she hears is stern: she must heal and guide herself, accept love when it comes, but not expect love to rescue her from sorrow or bring rest. The mood is clear-eyed, solemn, and self-reliant, touched by the harsh beauty of the desert night.
Day's Ending — Summary
Aloof as aged kings, Wearing like them the purple, The mountains ring the mesa Crowned with a dusky light; Many a time I watched That coming-on of darkness Till stars burned through the heavens Intolerably bright. It was not long I lived there But I became a woman Under those vehement stars. For it was there I heard For the first time my spirit Forging an iron rule for me, As though with slow cold hammers Beating out word by word: “Only yourself can heal you, Only yourself can lead you, The road is heavy going And ends where no man knows; Take love when love is given, But never think to find it A sure escape from sorrow Or a complete repose.”