Poet Paul Laurence Dunbar

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Paul Laurence Dunbar Poems

  • 251.  
    Prometheus stole from Heaven the sacred fire
    And swept to earth with it o'er land and sea. He lit the vestal flames of poesy,
  • 252.  
    The little bird sits in the nest and sings
    A shy, soft song to the morning light;And it flutters a little and prunes its wings.
  • 253.  
    Dear heart, good-night!
    Nay, list awhile that sweet voice singing When the world is all so bright,
  • 254.  
    The poor man went to the rich man's doors,
    “I come as Lazarus came,” he said.The rich man turned with humble head,-
  • 255.  
    I ‘ve journeyed ‘roun' consid'able, a-seein' men an' things,
    An' I ‘ve learned a little of the sense that meetin' people brings;But in spite of all my travelling an' of all I think I know,
  • 256.  
    Ef dey 's anyt'ing dat riles me
    An' jes' gits me out o' hitch,Twell I want to tek my coat off,
  • 257.  
    Whose little lady is you, chile,
    Whose little gal is you?What's de use o' kiver'n up yo' face?
  • 258.  
    A Song

  • 259.  
    Phyllis, ah, Phyllis, my life is a gray day,
    Few are my years, but my griefs are not few,Ever to youth should each day be a May-day,
  • 260.  
    I been t'inkin' 'bout de preachah; whut he said de othah night,
    'Bout hit bein' people's dooty, fu' to keep dey faces bright;How one ought to live so pleasant dat ouah tempah never riles,
  • 261.  
    She wrapped her soul in a lace of lies,
    With a prime deceit to pin it;And I thought I was gaining a fearsome prize,
  • 262.  
    De breeze is blowin' ‘cross de bay.
    My lady, my lady;De ship hit teks me far away,
  • 263.  
    Over the hills and the valleys of dreaming
    Slowly I take my way.Life is the night with its dream-visions teeming,
  • 264.  
    Granny's gone a-visitin',
    Seen huh git huh shawlW'en I was a-hidin' down
  • 265.  
    Oh, I am hurt to death, my Love;
    The shafts of Fate have pierced my striving heart,And I am sick and weary of
  • 266.  
    I sit upon the old sea wall,
    And watch the shimmering sea,Where soft and white the moonbeams fall,
  • 267.  
    I 's boun' to see my gal to-night-
    Oh, lone de way, my dearie!De moon ain't out, de stars ain't bright-
  • 268.  
    The sun is low,
    The waters flow,My boat is dancing to and fro.
  • 269.  
    Not to the midnight of the gloomy past,
    Do we revert to-day; we look uponThe golden present and the future vast
  • 270.  
    Thou arrant robber, Death!
    Couldst thou not findSome lesser one than he
  • 271.  
    Like sea-washed sand upon the shore,
    So fine and clean the tale,So clear and bright I almost see,
  • 272.  
    O Mother Race! to thee I bring
    This pledge of faith unwavering, This tribute to thy glory.
  • 273.  
    Done are the toils and the wearisome marches,
    Done is the summons of bugle and drum.Softly and sweetly the sky over-arches,
  • 274.  
    The November sun invites me,
    And although the chill wind smites me,I will wander to the woodland
  • 275.  
    Not they who soar, but they who plod
    Their rugged way, unhelped, to GodAre heroes; they who higher fare,
  • 276.  
    Ah, Nora, my Nora, the light fades away,
    While Night like a spirit steals up o'er the hills;The thrush from his tree where he chanted all day,
  • 277.  
    Shadder in de valley
    Sunlight on de hill,Sut'ny wish dat locus'
  • 278.  
    Some folks t'inks hit's right an' p'opah,
    Soon ez bedtime come erroun',Fu' to scramble to de kiver,
  • 279.  
    The moon has left the sky, love,
    The stars are hiding now,And frowning on the world, love,
  • 280.  
    Night, dim night, and it rains, my love, it rains,
    (Art thou dreaming of me, I wonder)The trees are sad, and the wind complains,
  • 281.  
    Silence, and whirling worlds afar
    Through all encircling skies.What floods come o'er the spirit's bar,
  • 282.  

  • 283.  
    W'en de clouds is hangin' heavy in de sky,
    An' de win's 's a-taihin' moughty vig'rous by,I don' go a-sighin' all erlong de way;
  • 284.  
    I don't believe in ‘ristercrats
    An' never did, you see;The plain ol' homelike sorter folks
  • 285.  
    Gray is the palace where she dwells,
    Grimly the poplars standThere by the window where she sits,
  • 286.  
    Men may sing of their Havanas, elevating to the stars
    The real or fancied virtues of their foreign-made cigars;But I worship Nicotina at a different sort of shrine,
  • 287.  
    Ashes to ashes, dust unto dust,
    What of his loving, what of his lust?What of his passion, what of his pain?
  • 288.  
    Darling, my darling, my heart is on the wing,
    It flies to thee this morning like a bird,Like happy birds in springtime my spirits soar and sing,
  • 289.  
    The mist has left the greening plain,
    The dew-drops shine like fairy rain,The coquette rose awakes again
  • 290.  
    Out of my heart, one day, I wrote a song,
    With my heart's blood imbued,Instinct with passion, tremulously strong,
  • 291.  
    Silently without my window,
    Tapping gently at the pane, Falls the rain.
  • 292.  
    In Life's Red Sea with faith I plant my feet,
    And wait the sound of that sustaining word Which long ago the men of Israel heard,
  • 293.  

  • 294.  
    Bedtime 's come fu' little boys.
    Po' little lamb.Too tiahed out to make a noise,
  • 295.  
    When the bees are humming in the honeysuckle vine
    And the summer days are in their bloom,Then my love is deepest, oh, dearest heart of mine,
  • 296.  
    Like the blush upon the rose
    When the wooing south wind speaks,Kissing soft its petals,
  • 297.  
    Love hath the wings of the butterfly,
    Oh, clasp him but gently,Pausing and dipping and fluttering by
  • 298.  
    As some rapt gazer on the lowly earth,
    Looks up to radiant planets, ranging far,So I, whose soul doth know thy wondrous worth
  • 299.  
    The draft of love was cool and sweet
    You gave me in the cup,But, ah, love's fire is keen and fleet,
  • 300.  
    Once Love grew bold and arrogant of air,
    Proud of the youth that made him fresh and fair;So unto Grief he spake, “What right hast thou
Total 522 poems written by Paul Laurence Dunbar

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Nicholas Of Montenegro
 by Don Marquis

He speaks as straight as his rifles shot,
As straight as a thrusting blade,
Waiting the deed that shall trouble the truce
His savage guns have made.

“You have dared the wrath of a dozen states,”
Was the challenge that he heard;
“We can die but once!” said the grim old King

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