Poet Paul Laurence Dunbar

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Paul Laurence Dunbar Poems

  • 401.  
    By the stream I dream in calm delight, and watch as in a glass,
    How the clouds like crowds of snowy-hued and white-robed maidens pass,And the water into ripples breaks and sparkles as it spreads,
  • 402.  
    By rugged ways and thro' the night
    We struggle blindly toward the light;And groping, stumbling, ever pray
  • 403.  
    Caught Susanner whistlin'; well,
    It's most nigh too good to tell.'Twould ‘a' b'en too good to see
  • 404.  
    The word is writ that he who runs may read.
    What is the passing breath of earthly fame?But to snatch glory from the hands of blame-
  • 405.  
    Standin' at de winder,
    Feelin' kind o' glum,Listenin' to de raindrops
  • 406.  
    “In the fight at Brandywine, Black Samson, a giant negro armed with
    a scythe, sweeps his way through the red ranks….” C. M. Skinner's “Myths and Legends of Our Own Land.”
  • 407.  
    I

  • 408.  
    Home agin, an' home to stay-
    Yes, it's nice to be away.Plenty things to do an' see,
  • 409.  
    As in some dim baronial hall restrained,
    A prisoner sits, engirt by secret doorsAnd waving tapestries that argue forth
  • 410.  
    By Mystic's banks I held my dream.
    (I held my fishing rod as well,)The vision was of dace and bream,
  • 411.  
    I know my love is true,
    And oh the day is fair.The sky is clear and blue,
  • 412.  
    Adown the west a golden glow
    Sinks burning in the sea,And all the dreams of long ago
  • 413.  
    Whut time ‘d dat clock strike?
    Nine? No-eight; I didn't think hit was so late.
  • 414.  
    Since I left the city's heat
    For this sylvan, cool retreat,High upon the hill-side here
  • 415.  
    When first of wise old Johnson taught,
    My youthful mind its homage brought,And made the pond'rous crusty sage
  • 416.  
    When I come in f'om de co'n-fiel' aftah wo'kin' ha'd all day,
    It 's amazin' nice to fin' my suppah all erpon de way;An' it 's nice to smell de coffee bubblin' ovah in de pot,
  • 417.  
    My muvver's ist the nicest one
    ‘At ever lived wiz folks;She lets you have ze mostes' fun,
  • 418.  
    When de fiddle gits to singin' out a ol' Vahginny reel,
    An' you ‘mence to feel a ticklin' in yo' toe an' in yo' heel;Ef you t'ink you got ‘uligion an' you wants to keep it, too,
  • 419.  
    If thro' the sea of night which here surrounds me,
    I could swim out beyond the farthest star,Break every barrier of circumstance that bounds me,
  • 420.  
    How sweet the music sounded
    That summer long ago,When you were by my side, love,
  • 421.  
    Ther' ain't no use in all this strife,
    An' hurryin', pell-mell, right thro' life.I don't believe in goin' too fast
  • 422.  
    We is gathahed hyeah, my brothahs,
    In dis howlin' wildaness,Fu' to speak some words of comfo't
  • 423.  
    Know you, winds that blow your course
    Down the verdant valleys,That somewhere you must, perforce,
  • 424.  
    Back to the breast of thy mother,
    Child of the earth!E'en her caress can not smother
  • 425.  
    I think that though the clouds be dark,
    That though the waves dash o'er the bark,Yet after while the light will come,
  • 426.  
    So we, who ‘ve supped the self-same cup,
    To-night must lay our friendship by;Your wrath has burned your judgment up,
  • 427.  
    I've always been a faithful man
    An' tried to live for duty,But the stringent mode of life
  • 428.  
    I be'n down in ole Kentucky
    Fur a week er two, an' say,‘T wuz ez hard ez breakin' oxen
  • 429.  
    W'en you full o' worry
    'Bout yo' wo'k an' sich,W'en you kind o' bothered
  • 430.  
    Good-night, my love, for I have dreamed of thee
    In waking dreams, until my soul is lost-Is lost in passion's wide and shoreless sea,
  • 431.  
    Across the hills and down the narrow ways,
    And up the valley where the free winds sweep, The earth is folded in an ermined sleep
  • 432.  
    “Sunshine on de medders,
    Greenness on de way;Dat 's de blessed reason
  • 433.  
    The sun hath shed its kindly light,
    Our harvesting is gladly o'erOur fields have felt no killing blight,
  • 434.  
    The night is dewy as a maiden's mouth,
    The skies are bright as are a maiden's eyes, Soft as a maiden's breath the wind that flies
  • 435.  
    It's hot to-day. The bees is buzzin'
    Kinder don't-keer-like aroun'An' fur off the warm air dances
  • 436.  
    Summah is de lovin' time-
    Do' keer what you say.Night is allus peart an' prime,
  • 437.  
    A cloud fell down from the heavens,
    And broke on the mountain's brow;It scattered the dusky fragments
  • 438.  
    Come on walkin' wid me, Lucy; ‘t ain't no time to mope erroun'
    Wen de sunshine 's shoutin' glory in de sky,An' de little Johnny-Jump-Ups 's jes' a-springin' f'om de groun',
  • 439.  
    De ‘cession's stahted on de gospel way,
    De Capting is a-drawin' nigh:Bettah stop a-foolin' an' a-try to pray;
  • 440.  
    Thou art the soul of a summer's day,
    Thou art the breath of the rose. But the summer is fled
  • 441.  
    On a summer's day as I sat by a stream,
    A dainty maid came by,And she blessed my sight like a rosy dream,
  • 442.  
    Oh for the breath of the briny deep,
    And the tug of the bellying sail,With the sea-gull's cry across the sky
  • 443.  
    Let those who will stride on their barren roads
    And prick themselves to haste with self-made goads,Unheeding, as they struggle day by day,
  • 444.  
    Mastah drink his ol' Made'a,
    Missy drink huh sherry wine,Ovahseah lak his whiskey,
  • 445.  
    Treat me nice, Miss Mandy Jane,
    Treat me nice.Dough my love has tu'ned my brain,
  • 446.  
    Hain't you see my Mandy Lou,
    Is it true?Whaih you been f'om day to day,
  • 447.  
    De trees is bendin' in de sto'm,
    De rain done hid de mountain's fo'm, I 's ‘lone an' in distress.
  • 448.  
    Outside the rain upon the street,
    The sky all grim of hue,Inside, the music-painful sweet,
  • 449.  
    Heart of my heart, the day is chill,
    The mist hangs low o'er the wooded hill,The soft white mist and the heavy cloud
  • 450.  
    Dream days of fond delight and hours
    As rosy-hued as dawn, are mine. Love's drowsy wine,
Total 522 poems written by Paul Laurence Dunbar

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Macdougal Street
 by Edna St. Vincent Millay

As I went walking up and down to take the evening air,
(Sweet to meet upon the street, why must I be so shy?)
I saw him lay his hand upon her torn black hair;
(”Little dirty Latin child, let the lady by!”)

The women squatting on the stoops were slovenly and fat,
(Lay me out in organdie, lay me out in lawn!)
And everywhere I stepped there was a baby or a cat;
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