Paul Laurence Dunbar

(1872-1906 / Ohio / United States)

Paul Laurence Dunbar Poems

121. To A Captious Critic 4/2/2010
122. The Sparrow 4/2/2010
123. The Rising Of The Storm 4/2/2010
124. Spring Song 4/2/2010
125. The Place Where The Rainbow Ends 4/2/2010
126. Compensation 11/22/2014
127. The Poet 4/2/2010
128. The Unsung Heroes 4/2/2010
129. The Poet And His Song 4/2/2010
130. Sunset 4/2/2010
131. The Seedling 4/2/2010
132. The Party 4/2/2010
133. When Winter Darkening All Around 4/2/2010
134. Wadin' In De Crick 4/2/2010
135. Whittier 4/2/2010
136. Winter's Approach 4/2/2010
137. Why Fades A Dream 4/2/2010
138. Religion 4/2/2010
139. Vagrants 4/2/2010
140. The Colored Soldiers 4/2/2010
141. Phyllis 4/2/2010
142. A Thanksgiving Poem 4/2/2010
143. When Sam'L Sings 4/2/2010
144. Premonition 4/2/2010
145. Johnny Speaks 4/2/2010
146. Behind The Arras 4/2/2010
147. Chrismus Is A-Comin' 4/2/2010
148. Christmas Carol 4/2/2010
149. Curtain 4/2/2010
150. Twilight 4/2/2010
151. Columbian Ode 4/2/2010
152. At Candle-Lightin' Time 4/2/2010
153. Whistling Sam 4/2/2010
154. At Cheshire Cheese 4/2/2010
155. The Old Front Gate 1/1/2004
156. Hymn 4/2/2010
157. My Sweet Brown Gal 4/2/2010
158. On A Clean Book 4/2/2010
159. Nora: A Serenade 4/2/2010
160. Jilted 4/2/2010

Comments about Paul Laurence Dunbar

  • Whitt Bell (4/6/2007 1:41:00 PM)

    I have never in my life until the 9th grade poem project heard about this guy. I think he should of given up his life. I dont like him.

    18 person liked.
    76 person did not like.
Best Poem of Paul Laurence Dunbar


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,
Until the rose says "Kiss me, please,"
'Tis morning, 'tis morning.

With staff in hand and careless-free,
The wanderer fares right jauntily,
For towns and houses are, thinks he,
For scorning, for scorning.
My soul is swift upon the wing,
And in its deeps a song I bring;
Come, Love, and we together sing,
"'Tis morning, 'tis ...

Read the full of Morning


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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