In May
Oh to have you in May,
To talk with you under the trees,
Dreaming throughout the day,
Drinking the wine-like breeze,
Oh it were sweet to think
That May should be ours again,
Hoping it not, I shrink,
Out of the sight of men.
May brings the flowers to bloom,
It brings the green leaves to the tree,
And the fatally sweet perfume,
Of what you once were to me.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Conscience And Remorse
'GOOD-BYE,' I said to my conscience —
'Good-bye for aye and aye,'
And I put her hands off harshly,
And turned my face away;
And conscience smitten sorely
Returned not from that day.
But a time came when my spirit
Grew weary of its pace;
And I cried: 'Come back, my conscience;
I long to see thy face.'
But conscience cried: 'I cannot;
Remorse sits in my place.'
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Evening
The moon begins her stately ride
Across the summer sky;
The happy wavelets lash the shore,--
The tide is rising high.
Beneath some friendly blade of grass
The lazy beetle cowers;
The coffers of the air are filled
With offerings from the flowers.
And slowly buzzing o'er my head
A swallow wings her flight;
I hear the weary plowman sing
As falls the restful night.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Confirmation
He was a poet who wrote clever verses,
And folks said he had a fine poetical taste;
But his father, a practical farmer, accused him
Of letting the strength of his arm go to waste.
He called on his sweetheart each Saturday evening,
As pretty a maiden as ever man faced,
And there he confirmed the old man's accusation
By letting the strength of his arm go to waist.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Anchored
If thro' the sea of night
which here summons me,
I could swim out beyond
the farthest star,
Break every barrier of circumstance
that bounds me,
And greet the Sun of sweeter
life afar,
Tho' near you there is passion,
grief, and sorrow,
And out there rest and joy
and peace and all,
I should renounce that beckoning
for to-morrow,
I could not choose to go beyond
your call.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Inspiration
At the golden gate of song
Stood I, knocking all day long,
But the Angel, calm and cold,
Still refused and bade me, 'Hold.'
Then a breath of soft perfume,
Then a light within the gloom;
Thou, Love, camest to my side,
And the gates flew open wide.
Long I dwelt in this domain,
Knew no sorrow, grief, or pain;
Now you bid me forth and free,
Will you shut these gates on me?
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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The Master-Player
AN old worn harp that had been played
Till all its strings were loose and frayed,
Joy, Hate and Fear, each one essayed,
To play. But each in turn had found
No sweet responsiveness of sound
Then Love the Master-Player came
With heaving breast and eyes aflame;
The harp he took all undismayed,
Smote on its strings, still strange to song,
And brought forth music sweet and strong.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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The Sand-Man
I KNOW a man
With face of tan,
But who is ever kind;
Whom girls and boys
Leave games and toys
Each eventide to find.
When day grows dim,
They watch for him,
He comes to place his claim;
He wears the crown
Of Dreaming-town;
The sand-man is his name.
When sparkling eyes
Droop sleepywise
And busy lips grow dumb;
When little heads
Nod toward the beds,
We know the sand-man's come.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Dey know.
Anchored
IF thro' the sea of night which here surrounds me,
I could swim out beyond the farthest star,
Break every barrier of circumstance that bounds me,
And greet the Sun of sweeter life afar,
Tho' near you there is passion, grief, and sorrow,
And out there rest and joy and peace and all,
I should renounce that beckoning for tomorrow,
I could not choose to go beyond your call.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Confessional
Search thou my heart;
If there be guile,
It shall depart
Before thy smile.
Search thou my soul;
Be there deceit,
'T will vanish whole
Before thee, sweet.
Upon my mind
Turn thy pure lens;
Naught shalt thou find
Thou canst not cleanse.
If I should pray,
I scarcely know
In just what way
My prayers would go.
[...] Read more
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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