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A Prayer

O LORD, the hard-won miles

Have worn my stumbling feet:

Oh, soothe me with thy smiles,

And make my life complete.

The thorns were thick and keen

Where'er I trembling trod;

The way was long between

My wounded feet and God.

Paul Laurence Dunbar

The Made to Order Smile

When a woman looks up at you with a twist about her eyes,

And her brows are half uplifted in a nicely feigned surprise

As you breathe some pretty sentence, though she hates you all the while,

She is very apt to stun you with a made to order smile.

It's a subtle combination of a sneer and a caress,

With a dash of warmth thrown in to relieve its iciness,

And she greets you when she meets you with that look as if a file

Had been used to fix and fashion out the made to order smile.

Paul Laurence Dunbar

The Paradox

I am the mother of sorrows,

I am the ender of grief;

I am the bud and the blossom,

I am the late-falling leaf.

I am thy priest and thy poet,

I am thy serf and thy king;

I cure the tears of the heartsick,

When I come near they shall sing.

Paul Laurence Dunbar

A Death Song

Lay me down beneaf de willers in de grass,

Whah de branch 'll go a-singin' as it pass.

An' w'en I's a-layin' low,

I kin hyeah it as it go

Singin', "Sleep, my honey, tek yo' res' at las'."

Lay me nigh to whah hit meks a little pool,

An' de watah stan's so quiet lak an' cool,

Whah de little birds in spring,

Paul Laurence Dunbar

If

IF life were but a dream, my Love,

And death the waking time;

If day had not a beam, my Love,

And night had not a rhyme, —

A barren, barren world were this

Without one saving gleam;

I'd only ask that with a kiss

You'd wake me from the dream.

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Life's Tragedy

It may be misery not to sing at all,

And to go silent through the brimming day;

It may be misery never to be loved,

But deeper griefs than these beset the way.

To sing the perfect song,

And by a half-tone lost the key,

There the potent sorrow, there the grief,

The pale, sad staring of Life's Tragedy.

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Parted

SHE wrapped her soul in a lace of lies,

With a prime deceit to pin it;

And I thought I was gaining a fearsome prize,

So I staked my soul to win it.

We wed and parted on her complaint,

And both were a bit of barter,

Tho' I'll confess that I'm no saint,

I'll swear that she's no martyr.

Paul Laurence Dunbar

An Easy Goin' Feller

Ther' ain't no use in all this strife,

An' hurryin', pell-mell, right thro' life.

I don't believe in goin' too fast

To see what kind o' road you've passed.

It ain't no mortal kind o' good,

'N' I would n't hurry ef I could.

I like to jest go joggin' 'long,

To limber up my soul with song;

Paul Laurence Dunbar

The Old Apple-Tree

THERE's a memory keeps a-runnin'

Through my weary head to-night,

An' I see a picture dancin'

In the fire-flames' ruddy-light;

'Tis the picture of an orchard

Wrapped in autumn's purple haze,

With the tender light about it

That I loved in other days.

Paul Laurence Dunbar

The Farm House By The River

I know a little country place

Where still my heart doth linger,

And o'er its fields is every grace

Lined out by memory's finger.

Back from the lane where poplar grew

And aspens quake and quiver,

There stands all bath'd in summer's glow

A farm house by the river.

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Emancipation

Fling out your banners, your honors be bringing,

Raise to the ether your paeans of praise.

Strike every chord and let music be ringing!

Celebrate freely this day of all days.

Few are the years since that notable blessing,

Raised you from slaves to the powers of men.

Each year has seen you my brothers progressing,

Never to sink to that level again.

Paul Laurence Dunbar

The Party

DEY had a gread big pahty down to Tom's de othah night;

Was I dah? You bet! I neveh in my life see sich a sight;

All de folks f'om fou' plantations was invited, an' dey come,

Dey come troopin' thick ez chillun when dey hyeahs a fife an' drum.

Evahbody dressed deir fines'— Heish yo' mouf an' git away,

Ain't seen no sich fancy dressin' sence las' quah'tly meetin' day;

Gals all dressed in silks an' satins, not a wrinkle ner a crease,

Eyes a-battin', teeth a-shinin', haih breashed back ez slick ez grease;

Paul Laurence Dunbar