Day
P
Paul Laurence Dunbar
0
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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.
Kamu malı: şairin ölümünün üzerinden 70 yıldan fazla geçti.
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