The Poetry Corner


By Paul Laurence Dunbar

Storm and strife and stress, Lost in a wilderness, Groping to find a way, Forth to the haunts of day Sudden a vista peeps, Out of the tangled deeps, Only a point--the ray But at the end is day. Dark is the dawn and chill, Daylight is on the hill, Night is the flitting breath, Day rides the hills of death.