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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WOODNOTES: 2 by RALPH WALDO EMERSON TO A STEAM ROLLER by MARIANNE MOORE THE BARTHOLDI STATUE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE END by BYRON HAVERLY BLACKFORD FOR THE DUE IMPROVEMENT OF A FUNERAL SOLEMNITY by JOHN BYROM |