Paul Laurence Dunbar Poems

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,
...

Whose little lady is you, chile,
Whose little gal is you?
What's de use o' kiver'n up yo' face?
...

Gray is the palace where she dwells,
Grimly the poplars stand
There by the window where she sits,
My Lady of Castle Grand.
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SOME folks t'inks hit's right an' p'opah,
Soon ez bedtime come erroun',
Fu' to scramble to de kiver,
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THE cloud looked in at the window,
And said to the day, 'Be dark!'
And the roguish rain tapped hard on the pane,
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W'EN you full o' worry
'Bout yo' wo'k an' sich,
W'en you kind o' bothered
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GRANNY'S gone a-visitin',
Seen huh git huh shawl
W'en I was a-hidin' down
Hime de gyahden wall.
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W'EN us fellers stomp around, makin' lots o' noise,
Gramma says, 'There's certain times comes to little boys
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Just whistle a bit, if the day be dark,
And the sky be overcast:
If mute be the voice of the piping lark,
Why, pipe your own small blast.
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A life was mine full of the close concern
Of many-voiced affairs. The world sped fast;
Behind me, ever rolled a pregnant past.
...