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1872–1906

DEATH

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.

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DEATH · Paul Laurence Dunbar · Poetry Cove