Paul Laurence Dunbar

(1872-1906 / Ohio / United States)

Paul Laurence Dunbar Poems

1. Reluctance 4/2/2010
2. Right's Security 4/2/2010
3. Speakin' At De Cou'T-House 4/2/2010
4. The Delinquent 4/2/2010
5. The Discovery 4/2/2010
6. The Disturber 4/2/2010
7. The Fisher Child's Lullaby 4/2/2010
8. The Fount Of Tears 4/2/2010
9. The Garret 4/2/2010
10. The Gourd 4/2/2010
11. The Lapse 4/2/2010
12. The Memory Of Martha 4/2/2010
13. The Monk's Walk 4/2/2010
14. The Murdered Lover 4/2/2010
15. The Masters 4/2/2010
16. The Mystic Sea 4/2/2010
17. The Ol' Tunes 4/2/2010
18. The Old Apple-Tree 4/2/2010
19. The Photograph 4/2/2010
20. The Plantation Child's Lullaby 4/2/2010
21. The Rising Of The Storm 4/2/2010
22. The Song 4/2/2010
23. The Stirrup Cup 4/2/2010
24. The Valse 4/2/2010
25. The Voice Of The Banjo 4/2/2010
26. Two Songs 4/2/2010
27. Unexpressed 4/2/2010
28. The Visitor 4/2/2010
29. The Wooing 4/2/2010
30. The Wraith 4/2/2010
31. Thou Art My Lute 4/2/2010
32. The Sum 4/2/2010
33. Till The Wind Gets Right 4/2/2010
34. Time To Tinker 'Roun'! 4/2/2010
35. To E. H. K. 4/2/2010
36. To A Lady Playing The Harp 4/2/2010
37. To An Ingrate 4/2/2010
38. To Pfrimmer 4/2/2010
39. To The Eastern Shore 4/2/2010
40. To The Memory Of Mary Young 4/2/2010
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

Encouragement

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
mad
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?

[Hata Bildir]