Paul Laurence Dunbar

"An angel, robed in spotless white, Bent down and kissed the sleeping Night. Night woke to blush; the sprite was gone. Men saw the blush and called it Dawn."

"It is a little dark still, but there are warnings of the day and somewhere out of the darkness a bird is singing to the Dawn."

"You are sweet, O Love, dear Love, You are soft as the nesting dove. Come to my heart and bring it rest As the bird flies home to its welcome nest."

"Dunbars Legacy of Language, an NPR story marking the 100th anniversary of Dunbars death; included is a poetry reading."

"I know what the caged bird feels, alas! When the sun is bright on the upland slopes; When the wind blows soft through the springing grass, And the river floats like a stream of glass; When the first bird sings and the first bud opes, And the faint perfume from its chalice steals— I know what the caged bird feels! I know why the caged bird beats his wing Till its blood is red on the cruel bars; For he must fly back to his perch and cling When he fain would be on the bough a-swing; And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars And they pulse again with a keener sting— I know why he beats his wing! I know why the caged bird sings, ah me, When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,— When he beats his bars and he would be free; It is not a carol of joy or glee, But a prayer that he sends from his hearts deep core, But a plea that upward to Heaven he flings— I know why the caged bird sings!"