The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar

THE CRISIS A man of low degree was sore oppressed, Fate held him under iron-handed sway, And ever, those who saw him thus distressed Would bid him bend his stubborn will and pray. But he, strong in himself and obdurate, Waged, prayerless, on his losing fight with Fate. Friends gave his proffered han

DE CRITTERS' DANCE Ain't nobody nevah tol' you not a wo'd a-tall, 'Bout de time dat all de critters gin dey fancy ball? Some folks tell it in a sto'y, some folks sing de rhyme, 'Peahs to me you ought to hyeahed it, case hit 's ol' ez time. Well, de critters all was p'osp'ous, now would be de chance

DE WAY T'INGS COME De way t'ings come, hit seems to me, Is des' one monst'ous mystery; De way hit seem to strike a man, Dey ain't no sense, dey ain't no plan; Ef trouble sta'ts a pilin' down, It ain't no use to rage er frown, It ain't no use to strive er pray, Hit's mortal boun' to come dat way. Now

THE DELINQUENT Goo'-by, Jinks, I got to hump, Got to mek dis pony jump; See dat sun a-goin' down 'N' me a-foolin' hyeah in town! Git up, Suke—go long! Guess Mirandy'll think I's tight, Me not home an' comin' on night. What 's dat stan'in' by de fence?

DELY Jes' lak toddy wahms you thoo' Sets yo' haid a reelin', Meks you ovah good and new, Dat 's de way I 's feelin'. Seems to me hit 's summah time, Dough hit 's wintah reely, I 's a feelin' jes' dat prime— An' huh name is Dely. Dis hyeah love 's a cu'rus thing, Changes 'roun' de season, Meks you sa

THE DESERTED PLANTATION Oh, de grubbin'-hoe 's a-rustin' in de co'nah, An' de plow 's a-tumblin' down in de fiel', While de whippo'will 's a-wailin' lak a mou'nah When his stubbo'n hea't is tryin' ha'd to yiel'. In de furrers whah de co'n was allus wavin', Now de weeds is growin' green an' rank an'

DIFFERENCES My neighbor lives on the hill, And I in the valley dwell, My neighbor must look down on me, Must I look up?—ah, well, My neighbor lives on the hill, And I in the valley dwell. My neighbor reads, and prays, And I—I laugh, God wot, And sing like a bird when the grass is green In my small g

THE DILETTANTE: A MODERN TYPE He scribbles some in prose and verse, And now and then he prints it; He paints a little,—gathers some Of Nature's gold and mints it. He plays a little, sings a song, Acts tragic roles, or funny; He does, because his love is strong, But not, oh, not for money! He studies

DINAH KNEADING DOUGH I have seen full many a sight Born of day or drawn by night: Sunlight on a silver stream, Golden lilies all a-dream, Lofty mountains, bold and proud, Veiled beneath the lacelike cloud; But no lovely sight I know Equals Dinah kneading dough. Brown arms buried elbow-deep Their dom

DIPLOMACY Tell your love where the roses blow, And the hearts of the lilies quiver, Not in the city's gleam and glow, But down by a half-sunned river. Not in the crowded ball-room's glare, That would be fatal, Marie, Marie, How can she answer you then and there? So come then and stroll with me, my d

DIRGE FOR A SOLDIER In the east the morning comes, Hear the rollin' of the drums On the hill. But the heart that beat as they beat In the battle's raging day heat Lieth still. Unto him the night has come, Though they roll the morning drum. What is in the bugle's blast?

DISAPPOINTED An old man planted and dug and tended, Toiling in joy from dew to dew; The sun was kind, and the rain befriended; Fine grew his orchard and fair to view. Then he said: "I will quiet my thrifty fears, For here is fruit for my failing years." But even then the storm-clouds gathered, Swall

SEEN you down at chu'ch las' night, Nevah min', Miss Lucy. What I mean? oh, dat 's all right, Nevah min', Miss Lucy. You was sma't ez sma't could be, But you could n't hide f'om me.

THE DISCOVERY These are the days of elfs and fays: Who says that with the dreams of myth, These imps and elves disport themselves? Ah no, along the paths of song Do all the tiny folk belong. Round all our homes, Kobolds and gnomes do daily cling, Then nightly fling their lanterns out. And shout on s

**THE DISTURBER** Oh, what shall I do? I am wholly upset; I am sure I 'll be jailed for a lunatic yet. I 'll be out of a job—it's the thing to expect When I 'm letting my duty go by with neglect. You may judge the extent and degree of my plight When I 'm thinking all day and a-dreaming all night, An

DOUGLASS Ah, Douglass, we have fall'n on evil days, Such days as thou, not even thou didst know, When thee, the eyes of that harsh long ago Saw, salient, at the cross of devious ways, And all the country heard thee with amaze. Not ended then, the passionate ebb and flow, The awful tide that battled

DREAM SONG I Long years ago, within a distant clime, Ere Love had touched me with his wand sublime, I dreamed of one to make my life's calm May The panting passion of a summer's day. And ever since, in almost sad suspense, I have been waiting with a soul intense To greet and take unto myself the bea

DREAM SONG II Pray, what can dreams avail To make love or to mar? The child within the cradle rail Lies dreaming of the star. But is the star by this beguiled To leave its place and seek the child? The poor plucked rose within its glass Still dreameth of the bee; But, tho' the lagging moments pass,

DREAMIN' TOWN Come away to dreamin' town, Mandy Lou, Mandy Lou, Whaih de skies don' nevah frown, Mandy Lou; Whaih he streets is paved with gol', Whaih de days is nevah col', An' no sheep strays f'om de fol', Mandy Lou. Ain't you tiahed of every day, Mandy Lou, Mandy Lou, Tek my han' an' come away, M

WHAT dreams we have and how they fly Like rosy clouds across the sky; Of wealth, of fame, of sure success, Of love that comes to cheer and bless; And how they wither, how they fade, The waning wealth, the jilting jade -- The fame that for a moment gleams, Then flies forever, --dreams, ah --dreams! O

DRIZZLE Hit 's been drizzlin' an' been sprinklin', Kin' o' techy all day long. I ain't wet enough fu' toddy, I 's too damp to raise a song, An' de case have set me t'inkin', Dat dey 's folk des lak de rain, Dat goes drizzlin' w'en dey's talkin', An' won't speak out flat an' plain. Ain't you nevah se

ENCOURAGEMENT Who dat knockin' at de do'? Why, Ike Johnson,—yes, fu' sho! Come in, Ike. I 's mighty glad You come down.

THE END OF THE CHAPTER Ah, yes, the chapter ends to-day; We even lay the book away; But oh, how sweet the moments sped Before the final page was read! We tried to read between the lines The Author's deep-concealed designs; But scant reward such search secures; You saw my heart and I saw yours. The M

EQUIPMENT With what thou gavest me, O Master, I have wrought. Such chances, such abilities, To see the end was not for my poor eyes, Thine was the impulse, thine the forming thought. Ah, I have wrought, And these sad hands have right to tell their story, It was no hard up striving after glory, Catch