The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/The Meadow Lark

THE MEADOW LARK

Though the winds be dank, And the sky be sober, And the grieving Day In a mantle gray Hath let her waiting maiden robe her,— All the fields along I can hear the song Of the meadow lark, As she flits and flutters, And laughs at the thunder when it mutters. O happy bird, of heart most gay To sing when skies are gray!

When the clouds are full, And the tempest master Lets the loud winds sweep From his bosom deep Like heralds of some dire disaster, Then the heart alone To itself makes moan; And the songs come slow, While the tears fall fleeter, And silence than song by far seems sweeter. Oh, few are they along the way Who sing when skies are gray!