Day
From ImmortalPoetry
Jump to navigationJump to searchby 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 gray;
The Sun God wakes, a bluebird trills,
You come and it is day.
Enable comment auto-refresher