Paul Laurence Dunbar
The Debt
This is the debt I pay Just for one riotous day, Years of regret and grief, Sorrow without relief. Pay it I will to the end Until the grave, my friend, Gives me a
The Old Front Gate
W’en daih’s chillun in de house, Dey keep on a-gittin’ tall; But de folks don’ seem to see Dat dey’s growin’ up at all, ‘Twell dey fin’ out some fine day Dat de gals
Little Brown Baby
Little brown baby wif spa’klin’ eyes, Come to yo’ pappy an’ set on his knee. What you been doin’, suh makin’ san’ pies? Look at dat bib you’s es du’ty ez me. Look at
Ships that Pass in the Night
Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing; I look far out into the pregnant night, Where I can hear the solemn booming gun And catch the gleaming of a random light,
The Barrier
The Midnight wooed the Morning Star, And prayed her: “Love come nearer; Your swinging coldly there afar To me but makes you dearer.” The Morning Star was pale with dole As said she, low
At the Tavern
A lilt and a swing, And a ditty to sing, Or ever the night grow old; The wine is within, And I’m sure t’were a sin For a soldier to choose to be cold,
A Negro Love Song
Seen my lady home las’ night, Jump back, honey, jump back. Hel’ huh han’ an’ sque’z it tight, Jump back, honey, jump back. Hyeahd huh sigh a little sigh, Seen a light gleam f’om
To Dan
STEP me now a bridal measure, Work give way to love and leisure, Hearts be free and hearts be gay Doctor Dan doth wed to-day. Diagnosis, cease your squalling Check that scalpel’s senseless bawling,
When Malindy Sings
G’way an’ quit dat noise, Miss Lucy Put dat music book away; What’s de use to keep on tryin’? Ef you practise twell you’re gray, You cain’t sta’t no notes a-flyin’ Lak de ones
A Choice
They please me not these solemn songs That hint of sermons covered up. ‘T is true the world should heed its wrongs, But in a poem let me sup, Not simples brewed to cure
The Made to Order Smile
When a woman looks up at you with a twist about her eyes, And her brows are half uplifted in a nicely feigned surprise As you breathe some pretty sentence, though she hates you
My Little March Girl
Come to the pane, draw the curtain apart, There she is passing, the girl of my heart; See where she walks like a queen in the street, Weather-defying, calm, placid and sweet. Tripping along
The Haunted Oak
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, Runs a shudder over me? My leaves were green as
The Lawyers' Ways
I’ve been list’nin’ to them lawyers In the court house up the street, An’ I’ve come to the conclusion That I’m most completely beat. Fust one feller riz to argy, An’ he boldly waded
Frederick Douglass
A hush is over all the teeming lists, And there is pause, a breath-space in the strife; A spirit brave has passed beyond the mists And vapors that obscure the sun of life. And
The Unlucky Apple
‘Twas the apple that in Eden Caused our father’s primal fall; And the Trojan War, remember ‘Twas an apple caused it all. So for weeks I’ve hesitated, You can guess the reason why, For
Old
I have seen peoples come and go Alike the Ocean’d ebb and flow; I have seen kingdoms rise and fall Like springtime shadows on a wall. I have seen houses rendered great That grew
The Paradox
I am the mother of sorrows, I am the ender of grief; I am the bud and the blossom, I am the late-falling leaf. I am thy priest and thy poet, I am thy
Merry Autumn
It’s all a farce,-these tales they tell About the breezes sighing, And moans astir o’er field and dell, Because the year is dying. Such principles are most absurd,- I care not who first taught
Life's Tragedy
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, But deeper griefs than these beset the way. To
Douglass
Ah, Douglass, we have fall’n on evil days, Such days as thou, not even thou didst know, When thee, the eyes of that harsh long ago Saw, salient, at the cross of devious ways,
Theology
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 If there were not, where
Encouraged
Because you love me I have much achieved, Had you despised me then I must have failed, But since I knew you trusted and believed, I could not disappoint you and so prevailed.
Encouragement
WHO dat knockin’ at de do’? Why, Ike Johnson, yes, fu’ sho! Come in, Ike. I’s mighty glad You come down. I t’ought you’s Mad At me ’bout de othah night, An’ was stayin’
Song
Wintah, summah, snow er shine, Hit’s all de same to me, Ef only I kin call you mine, An’ keep you by my knee. Ha’dship, frolic, grief er caih, Content by night an’ day,
Common Things
I like to hear of wealth and gold, And El Doradoes in their glory; I like for silks and satins bold To sweep and rustle through a story. The nightingale is sweet of song;
If I Could But Forget
If I could but forget The fullness of those first sweet days, When you burst sun-like thro’ the haze Of unacquaintance, on my sight, And made the wet, gray day seem bright While clouds
A Golden Day
I Found you and I lost you, All on a gleaming day. The day was filled with sunshine, And the land was full of May. A golden bird was singing Its melody divine, I
Howdy, Honey, Howdy
DO’ a-stan’in’ on a jar, fiah a-shinin’ Thoo, Ol’ folks drowsin’ ‘roun’ de place, Wide awake is Lou, W’en I tap, she answah, an’ I see Huh ‘mence to grin, “Howdy, honey, howdy, won’t
Confirmation
He was a poet who wrote clever verses, And folks said he had a fine poetical taste; But his father, a practical farmer, accused him Of letting the strength of his arm go to
We Wear the Mask
We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes, This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, And mouth with myriad
Accountability
FOLKS ain’t got no right to censuah othah folks about dey habits; Him dat giv’ de squir’ls de bushtails made de bobtails fu’ de rabbits. Him dat built de gread big mountains hollered out
When de Co'n Pone's Hot
Dey is times in life when Nature Seems to slip a cog an’ go, Jes’ a-rattlin’ down creation, Lak an ocean’s overflow; When de worl’ jes’ stahts a-spinnin’ Lak a picaninny’s top, An’ yo’
Signs of the Times
Air a-gittin’ cool an’ coolah, Frost a-comin’ in de night, Hicka’ nuts an’ wa’nuts fallin’, Possum keepin’ out o’ sight. Tu’key struttin’ in de ba’nya’d, Nary a step so proud ez his; Keep on
Sympathy
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, And the river flows like a stream of
Morning
The mist has left the greening plain, The dew-drops shine like fairy rain, The coquette rose awakes again Her lovely self adorning. The Wind is hiding in the trees, A sighing, soothing, laughing tease,
Summer in the South
The Oriole sings in the greening grove As if he were half-way waiting, The rosebuds peep from their hoods of green, Timid, and hesitating. The rain comes down in a torrent sweep And the