Poet Paul Laurence Dunbar

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Paul Laurence Dunbar Poems

  • 451.  
    Dey is times in life when Nature
    Seems to slip a cog an' go, Jes' a-rattlin' down creation,
  • 452.  
    WHAT if the wind do howl without,
    And turn the creaking weather-vane;What if the arrows of the rain
  • 453.  
    When Phyllis sighs and from her eyes
    The light dies out; my soul repliesWith misery of deep-drawn breath,
  • 454.  
    EIGHT of 'em hyeah all tol' an' yet
    Dese eyes o' mine is wringin' wet;My haht's a-achin' ha'd an' so',
  • 455.  
    The gray of the sea, and the gray of the sky,
    A glimpse of the moon like a half-closed eye.The gleam on the waves and the light on the land,
  • 456.  

  • 457.  
    BREEZES blowin' middlin' brisk,
    Snow-flakes thro' the air a-whisk,Fallin' kind o' soft an' light,
  • 458.  
    Fling out your banners, your honors be bringing,
    Raise to the ether your paeans of praise.Strike every chord and let music be ringing!
  • 459.  
    TO F. N.

  • 460.  
    OH, who would be sad tho' the sky be a-graying,
    And meadow and woodlands are empty and bare;For softly and merrily now there come playing,
  • 461.  
    HELLO, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray,
    An' it beats ole Ned to see the way'At the crow's feet's a-getherin' aroun' yore eyes;
  • 462.  
    Oh, awful Power whose works repel
    The marvel of the earth's designs,--I 'll hie me otherwhere to dwell,
  • 463.  
    Oh for the breath of the briny deep,
    And the tug of the bellying sail, With the sea-gull's cry across the sky
  • 464.  
    WHAT'S the use o' folks a-frownin'
    When the way's a little rough? Frowns lay out the road fur smilin'
  • 465.  
    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,
  • 466.  
    Love of home, sublimest passion
    That the human heart can know! Changeless still, though fate and fashion
  • 467.  
    ALL de night long twell de moon goes down,
    Lovin' I set at huh feet, Den fu' de long jou'ney back f'om de town,
  • 468.  
    WINTAH time hit comin'
    Stealin' thoo de night; Wake up in the mo'nin'
  • 469.  
    I'VE been watchin' of 'em parson,
    An' I'm sorry fur to say 'At my mind is not contented
  • 470.  
    Love hath the wings of the butterfly,
    Oh, clasp him but gently, Pausing and dipping and fluttering by
  • 471.  
    YOU kin talk about yer anthems
    An' yer arias an' sich, An' yer modern choir-singin'
  • 472.  
    MY heart to thy heart,
    My hand to thine; My lips to thy lips,
  • 473.  
    TUSKEGEE, ALA., APRIL 22, 1901.
    Not to the midnight of the gloomy past,
  • 474.  
    I think that though the clouds be dark,
    That though the waves dash o'er the bark, Yet after while the light will come,
  • 475.  
    Lead gently, Lord, and slow,
  • 476.  
    I GREW a rose once more to please mine eyes.
    All things to aid it â?? dew, sun, wind, fair skies â?? Were kindly; and to shield it from despoil,
  • 477.  
    '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_.'
  • 478.  
    Ther' ain't no use in all this strife,
    An' hurryin', pell-mell, right thro' life. I don't believe in goin' too fast
  • 479.  
    It may be misery not to sing at all,
    And to go silent through the brimming day; It may be misery never to be loved,
  • 480.  
    THOU art the soul of a summer's day,
    Thou art the breath of the rose. But the summer is fled
  • 481.  
    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,
  • 482.  
    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--
  • 483.  
    Back to the breast of thy mother,
    Child of the earth! E'en her caress can not smother
  • 484.  
    SINCE I left the city's heat
    For this sylvan, cool retreat, High upon the hill-side here
  • 485.  
    Long years ago, within a distant clime,
    Ere Love had touched me with his wand sublime, I dreamed of one to make my life's calm May
  • 486.  
    W'EN us fellers stomp around, makin' lots o' noise,
    Gramma says, 'There's certain times comes to little boys W'en they need a shingle or the soft side of a plank;'
  • 487.  
    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
  • 488.  
    Seems lak folks is mighty curus
    In de way dey t'inks an' ac's. Dey jes' spen's dey days a-mixin'
  • 489.  
    DO' a-stan'in' on a jar, fiah a-shinin'
    thoo, Ol' folks drowsin' 'roun' de place,
  • 490.  
    Key and bar, key and bar,
    Iron bolt and chain! And what will you do when the King comes
  • 491.  
    In this sombre garden close
    What has come and passed, who knows? What red passion, what white pain
  • 492.  
    Bones a-gittin' achy,
    Back a-feelin' col', Han's a-growin' shaky,
  • 493.  
    I've been list'nin' to them lawyers
    In the court house up the street, An' I've come to the conclusion
  • 494.  
    COME away to dreamin' town,
    Mandy Lou, Mandy Lou, Whaih de skies don' nevah frown,
  • 495.  
    Summah night an' sighin' breeze,
    'Long de lovah's lane; Frien'ly, shadder-mekin' trees,
  • 496.  
    De way t'ings come, hit seems to me,
    Is des' one monst'ous mystery; De way hit seem to strike a man,
  • 497.  
    Little Miss Margaret sits in a pout,
    She and her Dolly have just fallen out.
  • 498.  
    I'VE a humble little motto
    That is homely, though it's true, â?? Keep a-pluggin' away.
  • 499.  
    Ain't nobody nevah tol' you not a wo'd a-tall,
    'Bout de time dat all de critters gin dey fancy ball? Some folks tell it in a sto'y, some folks sing de rhyme,
  • 500.  
    WHAT are the things that make life bright?
    A star gleam in the night. What hearts us for the coming fray?
Total 513 poems written by Paul Laurence Dunbar

Poem of the day

Blue And White
 by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

BLUE is Our Lady—s colour,
White is Our Lord—s.
To-morrow I will wear a knot
Of blue and white cords,
That you may see it, where you ride
Among the flashing swords.

O banner, white and sunny blue,

Read complete poem

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