Paul Laurence Dunbar

(1872-1906 / Ohio / United States)

Paul Laurence Dunbar Poems

201. Melancholia 4/2/2010
202. Merry Autumn 4/2/2010
203. Misapprehension 4/2/2010
204. Morning 12/31/2002
205. Morning Song Of Love 4/2/2010
206. Mortality 4/2/2010
207. My Corn-Cob Pipe 4/2/2010
208. My Lady Of Castle Grand 4/2/2010
209. My Little March Girl 4/2/2010
210. My Sort O' Man 4/2/2010
211. My Sweet Brown Gal 4/2/2010
212. Nature And Art. To My Friend Charles Booth Nettleton 4/2/2010
213. Night 4/2/2010
214. Night Of Love 4/2/2010
215. Night, Dim Night 4/2/2010
216. Noddin' By De Fire 4/2/2010
217. Noon 4/2/2010
218. Nora: A Serenade 4/2/2010
219. Not They Who Soar 4/2/2010
220. Nutting Song 4/2/2010
221. October 4/2/2010
222. Ode For Memorial Day 4/2/2010
223. Ode To Ethiopia 4/2/2010
224. Old 1/3/2003
225. On A Clean Book 4/2/2010
226. On A Sea Wall 4/2/2010
227. On The Death Of W. C. 4/2/2010
228. On The Dedication Of Dorothy Hall 4/2/2010
229. On The River 4/2/2010
230. On The Road 4/2/2010
231. One Life 4/2/2010
232. Opportunity 4/2/2010
233. Over The Hills 4/2/2010
234. Parted 4/2/2010
235. Passion And Love 4/2/2010
236. Philosophy 4/2/2010
237. Phyllis 4/2/2010
238. Poor Withered Rose 4/2/2010
239. Possession 4/2/2010
240. Possum 4/2/2010
Best Poem of Paul Laurence Dunbar

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 subtleties.

Why should the world be overwise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!

Read the full of We Wear The Mask


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 de little valleys,
Him dat made de streets an' driveways wasn't shamed to make de alleys.

We is all constructed diff'ent, d'ain't no two of us de same;
We cain't he'p ouah likes an' dislikes, ef we'se bad we ain't to blame.
Ef we'se good, we need n't show off, case you bet it ain't ouah doin'
We gits in

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