Poet Paul Laurence Dunbar

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Paul Laurence Dunbar Poems

  • 451.  
    My lady love lives far away,
    And oh my heart is sad by day,And ah my tears fall fast by night,
  • 452.  
    Ah, love, my love is like a cry in the night,
    A long, loud cry to the empty sky,The cry of a man alone in the desert,
  • 453.  
    Oh, I des received a letter f'om de sweetest little gal;
    Oh, my; oh, my.She's my lovely little sweetheart an' her name is Sal:
  • 454.  
    Ah, I have changed, I do not know
    Why lonely hours affect me so.In days of yore, this were not wont,
  • 455.  
    De win' is hollahin' “Daih you” to de shuttahs an' de fiah,
    De snow's a-sayin' “Got you” to de groun',Fu' de wintah weathah 's come widout a-askin' ouah desiah,
  • 456.  
    Dear Miss Lucy: I been t'inkin' dat I ‘d write you long fo' dis,
    But dis writin' 's mighty tejous, an' you know jes' how it is.But I 's got a little lesure, so I teks my pen in han'
  • 457.  
    The trees bend down along the stream,
    Where anchored swings my tiny boat.The day is one to drowse and dream
  • 458.  
    Lead gently, Lord, and slow,
    For oh, my steps are weak,And ever as I go,
  • 459.  
    Wen de snow 's a-fallin'
    An' de win' is col'.Mammy ‘mence a-callin',
  • 460.  
    I found you and I lost you,
    All on a gleaming day.The day was rilled with sunshine,
  • 461.  
    Swing yo' lady roun' an' roun',
    Do de bes' you know;Mek yo' bow an' p'omenade
  • 462.  
    Win' a-blowin' gentle so de san' lay low,
    San' a little heavy f'om de rain,All de pa'ms a-wavin' an' a-weavin' slow,
  • 463.  
    The air is dark, the sky is gray,
    The misty shadows come and go,And here within my dusky room
  • 464.  
    Lay me down beneaf de willers in de grass,
    Whah de branch ‘ll go a-singin' as it pass. An' w'en I 's a-layin' low,
  • 465.  
    On the wide veranda white,
    In the purple failing light,Sits the master while the sun is lowly burning;
  • 466.  
    Yes, my ha't 's ez ha'd ez stone-
    Go ‘way, Sam, an' lemme ‘lone.No; I ain't gwine change my min'-
  • 467.  
    Uncle John, he makes me tired;
    Thinks ‘at he's jest so all-firedSmart, ‘at he kin pick up, so,
  • 468.  
    De win' is blowin' wahmah,
    An hit's blowin' f'om de bay;Dey's a so't o' mist a-risin'
  • 469.  
    “Break me my bounds, and let me fly
    To regions vast of boundless sky;Nor I, like piteous Daphne, be
  • 470.  
    The Young Master Asks For A Story

  • 471.  
    Come, essay a sprightly measure,
    Tuned to some light song of pleasure. Maidens, let your brows be crowned
  • 472.  
    'Tis fine to play
    In the fragrant hay,And romp on the golden load;
  • 473.  
    Oh, I have n't got long to live, for we all
    Die soon, e'en those who live longest;And the poorest and weakest are taking their chance
  • 474.  
    Oh, dere 's lots o' keer an' trouble
    In dis world to swaller down;An' ol' Sorrer 's purty lively
  • 475.  
    De axes has been ringin' in de woods de blessid day,
    An' de chips has been a-fallin' fa' an' thick;Dey has cut de bigges' hick'ry dat de mules kin tote away,
  • 476.  
    Dey is times in life when Nature
    Seems to slip a cog an' go,Jes' a-rattlin' down creation,
  • 477.  
    We wear the mask that grins and lies,
    It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,-This debt we pay to human guile;
  • 478.  
    There is a heaven, for ever, day by day,
    The upward longing of my soul doth tell me so.There is a hell, I ‘m quite as sure; for pray,
  • 479.  
    As a quiet little seedling
    Lay within its darksome bed,To itself it fell a-talking,
  • 480.  
    The lake's dark breast
    Is all unrest,It heaves with a sob and a sigh.
  • 481.  
    A song is but a little thing,
    And yet what joy it is to sing!In hours of toil it gives me zest,
  • 482.  
    I am the mother of sorrows,
    I am the ender of grief;I am the bud and the blossom,
  • 483.  
    W'en daih 's chillun in de house,
    Dey keep on a-gittin' tall;But de folks don' seem to see
  • 484.  
    There's a memory keeps a-runnin'
    Through my weary head to-night,An' I see a picture dancin'
  • 485.  
    I was not; now I am-a few days hence
    I shall not be; I fain would look beforeAnd after, but can neither do; some Power
  • 486.  
    When a woman looks up at you with a twist about her eyes,
    And her brows are half uplifted in a nicely feigned surpriseAs you breathe some pretty sentence, though she hates you all the while,
  • 487.  
    My cot was down by a cypress grove,
    And I sat by my window the whole night long,And heard well up from the deep dark wood
  • 488.  
    I ‘ve been list'nin' to them lawyers
    In the court house up the street,An' I ‘ve come to the conclusion
  • 489.  
    Pray why are you so bare, so bare,
    Oh, bough of the old oak-tree;And why, when I go through the shade you throw,
  • 490.  
    He scribbles some in prose and verse,
    And now and then he prints it;He paints a little,-gathers some
  • 491.  
    This is the debt I pay
    Just for one riotous day,Years of regret and grief,
  • 492.  
    I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
    When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,
  • 493.  
    The river sleeps beneath the sky,
    And clasps the shadows to its breast;The crescent moon shines dim on high;
  • 494.  
    The Oriole sings in the greening grove
    As if he were half-way waiting, The rosebuds peep from their hoods of green,
  • 495.  
    Wintah, summah, snow er shine,
    Hit's all de same to me,Ef only I kin call you mine,
  • 496.  
    My heart to thy heart,
    My hand to thine; My lip to thy lips,
  • 497.  
    Air a-gittin' cool an' coolah,
    Frost a-comin' in de night,Hicka' nuts an' wa'nuts fallin',
  • 498.  
    Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing;
    I look far out into the pregnant night,Where I can hear a solemn booming gun
  • 499.  
    “Thou art a fool,” said my head to my heart,
    “Indeed, the greatest of fools thou art, To be led astray by the trick of a tress,
  • 500.  
    I grew a rose within a garden fair,
    And, tending it with more than loving care,I thought how, with the glory of its bloom,
Total 522 poems written by Paul Laurence Dunbar

Poem of the day

The Transfiguration
 by Robert Herrick

Immortal clothing I put on
So soon as, Julia, I am gone
To mine eternal mansion.

Thou, thou art here, to human sight
Cloth'd all with incorrupted light;
But yet how more admir'dly bright


Read complete poem

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