Author Paul Laurence Dunbar OUTSIDE the rain upon the street, The sky all grim of hue, Inside, the music-painful sweet, And yet I heard but you As is a thrilling violin, So is your voice to me, And still above the other strains, It sang in ecstasy. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments