Paul Laurence Dunbar
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 nights smell warm and pinety,
The garden thrives, but the tender shoots
Are yellow-green and tiny.
Then a flash of sun on a waiting hill,
Streams laugh that erst were quiet,
The sky smiles down with a dazzling blue
And the woods run mad with riot.
Paul Laurence Dunbar's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Summer in the South by Paul Laurence Dunbar )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- Aladdin Lamp, Aftab Alam
- Time Is Against Them, Afzal Ahmed Syed
- For Us, Afzal Ahmed Syed
- The Death of Stella D'Cruz1, Afzal Ahmed Syed
- If My Voice Is Not Reaching You, Afzal Ahmed Syed
- DE-HOLOCAUSTIZE THE SIX MILLION JEWS, alexander opicho
- Pen And Paper, ali chukwuemeka
- Decoy, Aftab Alam
- My plaints, Hrishikesh Bharadwaj
- The Blind's thought, Hrishikesh Bharadwaj