Day
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.
![[Poetry X Logo]](http://poetryx.com/images/poetryXLogo.gif)
