Paul Laurence Dunbar
THE gray dawn on the mountain top
Is slow to pass away.
Still lays him by in sluggish dreams,
The golden God of day.
And then a light along the hills,
Your laughter silvery gay;
The Sun God wakes, a bluebird trills,
You come and it is day.
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Comments about this poem (Day by Paul Laurence Dunbar )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
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William Ernest Henley
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