Appleton, WI

July 7: Day by Day with Father Bill


With the Lark by Charles Laurence Dunbar
Night is for sorrow and
dawn is for joy,
Chasing the troubles
that fret and annoy;
Darkness for sighing 
and daylight for song, –
Cheery and chaste the
strain, heartfelt and strong.
All the night through,
though I moan in the dark,
I wake in the morning 
to sing with the lark.
Deep in the midnight
the rain whips the leaves,
Softly and sadly the
wood-spirit grieves.
But when the first hue
of dawn tints the sky,
I shall shake out my
wings like the birds and be dry;
And though, like the
rain-drops, I grieved
through the dark,
I shall awake in the
morning to sing with the lark.
On the high hills of
heaven, some morning to be,
Where the rain shall
not grieve thro’ the leaves of the tree,
There my heart will be
glad for the pain I have known,
For my hand will be
clasped in the hand of mine own;
And though life has
been hard and death’s
pathway been dark, 
I shall wake in the 
morning to sing with the lark.
Mr. Dundar, born in 1872, was one of the first African American poets to gain national recognition.