In “Rhapsody,” the speaker celebrates a deep, inclusive gladness: gratitude for the ability to sing, for time, change, and even sorrow. These are not burdens to resent but parts of being alive. The imagery turns toward twilight and “the edge of to-morrow,” where endings and new possibilities seem to meet. The speaker’s own heart becomes an open doorway for wonders, a quiet entrance set apart from the world’s “rush and din.” Dreams arrive like sheep coming in from rain and thunder—tired, perhaps, but safe and welcomed. The mood is gentle, reverent, and quietly joyful. It does not insist on simple happiness; instead, it suggests that wonder can be found by accepting life’s storms and gifts alike. There is no bitterness in this, only a calm readiness. The whole poem feels like a small, grateful prayer, full of openness to whatever comes next.
Rhapsody — Summary
I am glad daylong for the gift of song, For time and change and sorrow; For the sunset wings and the world-end things Which hang on the edge of to-morrow. I am glad for my heart whose gates apart Are the entrance-place of wonders, Where dreams come in from the rush and din Like sheep from the rains and thunders.