Paul Laurence Dunbar

(1872-1906 / Ohio / United States)

Paul Laurence Dunbar Poems

241. A Roadway 4/2/2010
242. Dreamin' Town 4/2/2010
243. Melancholia 4/2/2010
244. Conscience And Remorse 4/2/2010
245. The Barrier 12/31/2002
246. By The Stream 4/2/2010
247. Mortality 4/2/2010
248. Night 4/2/2010
249. Comparison 4/2/2010
250. Dirge For A Soldier 4/2/2010
251. An Old Memory 4/2/2010
252. Limitations 4/2/2010
253. Love's Castle 4/2/2010
254. Discovered 4/2/2010
255. A Plantation Portrait 4/2/2010
256. Love's Humility 4/2/2010
257. When Dey 'Listed Colored Soldiers 4/2/2010
258. Misapprehension 4/2/2010
259. Kidnaped 4/2/2010
260. One Life 4/2/2010
261. Passion And Love 4/2/2010
262. Lonesome 4/2/2010
263. In May 4/2/2010
264. Expectation 4/2/2010
265. Ballad 4/2/2010
266. Love's Chastening 4/2/2010
267. Curiosity 4/2/2010
268. My Sort O' Man 4/2/2010
269. Inspiration 4/2/2010
270. Death 4/2/2010
271. Appreciation 4/2/2010
272. Morning Song Of Love 4/2/2010
273. Night, Dim Night 4/2/2010
274. Lincoln 4/2/2010
275. Disappointed. 4/2/2010
276. Alexander Crummell--Dead 4/2/2010
277. A Lyric 4/2/2010
278. Dream Song Ii 4/2/2010
279. Faith 4/2/2010
280. Black Sampson Of Brandywine 4/2/2010

Comments about Paul Laurence Dunbar

  • Evelyn Morgan (4/17/2012 9:07:00 AM)

    I remember reading Paul Dunbar in high school and in a college poetry course. His words are not only profound, but they also read like music to the ears. He speaks from the heart about feelings that are not only evoking the black experience, but life experience. Try reading his poems aloud especially those in dialect. It's worth the extra effort.

    111 person liked.
    42 person did not like.
  • Ben Highpriest (11/8/2011 9:04:00 PM)

    Paul Laurence Dunbar is the greatest example of what was wrong with Thomas Jefferson's views that blacks had no sense of poetry. Sure, he wrote in the sty; e of the most noted white poets of the day. But there are powerful metaphors in his words that are sometimes sad. Mostly, though he proved that education would render Jefferson wrong. His mother, while a slave, took in as much as she could from the poetry readings in the house where she worked. Did T.J., have such events? Paul learned the power of education from her. The other idiots who left there comments here know nothing about history and sound as if they think Dunbar was writing this stuff today, like a rap artist.

  • Habib Noori (9/23/2011 1:49:00 PM)

    ignorance, just ignorance

  • Orran Ainmire (4/10/2007 9:15:00 PM)

    I apologize to all for the fact that i'm using this comment box as a means of delivering a personal message, but i feel it must be done. Okay first off... Why Whitt Bell why? Why do you pollute the msg boards of a website dedicated to poetry and poets alike with phrases of 'i hate this guy, i think all poetry is stupid.'
    Its obvious you don't understand the greater meaning behind written works of literature and, in turn, it shows that your an illiterate twit who is a prime example of ignorance everywhere. Your kind infest the world and, like a parasite, feast on the living Word of others while producing nothing of your own. You are a hypocrite and a louse; you should spout your words of stupidity elsewhere. Leave us in peace.

  • 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.

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


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
At me 'bout de othah night,
An' was stayin' 'way fu' spite.
Say, now, was you mad fu' true
W'en I kin' o' laughed at you?

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