#Paul Laurence Dunbar

[macrolit]

Giveaw@y: We’re giving away 12 vintage paperback classics! Won’t they look lovely on your shelf? =)  Enter to win these classics by: 1) following macrolit on Tumblr (yes, we will check. :P), and 2) reblogging this post. We will choose a random winner on 26 February 2023. Good luck! Follow our IG account to be eligible for our IG giveaw@ys. For full rules to all of our giveaw@ys, click here.

#giveaw@y #literature #old books #paperback #jane austen #ernest hemingway #shakespeare #langston hughes #gustave flaubert #annie dillard #paul laurence dunbar #d.h. lawrence #THE GIVEAW@YS ARE BACK!

[themetalbabygirl]

An angel, robed in spotless white, Bent down and kissed the sleeping night. Night woke to blush; the sprite was gone. Men saw the blush and called it dawn.

Paul Laurence Dunbar, "Dawn"

#poetry #Paul Laurence Dunbar #Dawn #obsessed with this one #people

[cartermagazine]

“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 otherwise, In counting all our tears and sighs? Nay, let them only see thus, 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!” - Paul Laurence Dunbar

CARTER™️ Magazine carter-mag.com #wherehistoryandhiphopmeet #historyandhiphop365 #cartermagazine #carter #paullaurencedunbar #blackhistorymonth #blackhistory #history #poem #staywoke

#carter magazine #carter #historyandhiphop365 #wherehistoryandhiphopmeet #history #cartermagazine #today in history #staywoke #blackhistory #blackhistorymonth #paul laurence dunbar

[dabiconcordia]

November Song

The November sun invites me, And although the chill wind smites me, I will wander to the woodland Where the laden trees await; And with loud and joyful singing I will set the forest ringing, As if I were king of Autumn, And Dame Nature were my mate,—

While the squirrel in his gambols Fearless round about me ambles, As if he were bent on showing In my kingdom he’d a share; While my warm blood leaps and dashes, And my eye with freedom flashes, As my soul drinks deep and deeper Of the magic in the air.

There’s a pleasure found in nutting, All life’s cares and griefs outshutting, That is fuller far and better Than what prouder sports impart. Who could help a carol trilling As he sees the baskets filling? Why, the flow of song keeps running O’er the high walls of the heart.

So when I am home returning, When the sun is lowly burning, I will once more wake the echoes With a happy song of praise,— For the golden sunlight blessing, And the breezes’ soft caressing, And the precious boon of living In the sweet November days. by Paul Laurence Dunbar

#november #paul laurence dunbar #chickadee #squirrel #photo pinterest.com

[lcrdbyron]

The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar

#engulfed in the flames of these words; #paul laurence dunbar

[ineedtoreadmorepoetry]

The Paradox by Paul Laurence Dunbar

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.

White are my hands as the snowdrop; Swart are my fingers as clay; Dark is my frown as the midnight, Fair is my brow as the day.

Battle and war are my minions, Doing my will as divine; I am the calmer of passions, Peace is a nursling of mine.

Speak to me gently or curse me, Seek me or fly from my sight; I am thy fool in the morning, Thou art my slave in the night.

Down to the grave will I take thee, Out from the noise of the strife; Then shalt thou see me and know me-- Death, then, no longer, but life.

Then shalt thou sing at my coming, Kiss me with passionate breath, Clasp me and smile to have thought me Aught save the foeman of Death.

Come to me, brother, when weary, Come when thy lonely heart swells; I'll guide thy footsteps and lead thee Down where the Dream Woman dwells.

#Paul Laurence Dunbar

[theshatterednotes]

Paul Laurence Dunbar, U.S. poet.

#Paul Laurence Dunbar #Laurence Dunbar #Dunbar #American #America #USA #US #Dayton #United States #Ohio #1872 #1800's #1900's #1906 #1870's #poetry #poet

[ifelllikeastar]

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. If dreaming were the sum of days, And loving were the bane; If battling for a wreath of bays, Could soothe a heart in pain, I’d scorn the meed of battle’s might, All other aims above I’d choose the human’s higher right, To suffer and to love!

~ Paul Laurence Dunbar died February 9, 1906 at the age of 33.

#paul laurence dunbar #poetry #love #ohio #american writer #black lives #poet #black history month #february

[thebeautifulbook]

WHEN MALINDY SINGS by Paul Laurence Dunbar. (Toronto: Musson, 1903) Cover and interior designs by Margaret Armstrong

source

#beautiful books #book blog #books books books #book cover #books #illustrated book #vintage books #edwardian books #margaret armstrong #paul laurence dunbar

[gay-mormon-wizard]

"In August" by Paul Laurence Dunbar

#august #august posting #august poetry #poetry #Paul Laurence Dunbar

[macrolit]

The Sport of the Gods Paul Laurence Dunbar This is 1 of 12 vintage paperback classics that comprise our current giveaw@y.

#paul laurence dunbar #the sport of the gods #books #book #reading #has anyone read this? #it's on my desk #considering reading next

[sidewalkchemistry]

#q #quotes #paul laurence dunbar #art #true being #nourishing waves #moments of bliss #summer #abundance mindset #sidewalkchemistry

[thepiningpoet]

We Wear the Mask

BY PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR

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 over-wise,

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!

#dark academia #poetry #writing #poems #writings #dark acadamia aesthetic #dark academia blog #quotes #dark academia aesthetic #chaotic academia #paul laurence dunbar

[thesymbioticmask]

"We Wear the Mask" by Paul Laurence Dunbar

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 over-wise,

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!

While this poem isn’t the first instance of the mask, it does lay the framework for what the mask is. The mask is revealed by Dunbar as mode of concealing pain or vulnerability from the world by hiding behind smiles and joy. The mask becomes an inversion of the self for protection, survival, and pride.

Next>

#the mask #Paul Laurence Dunbar #poetry #Youtube

[alphareleasemedia]

Sympathy -- Paul Laurence Dunbar

I know what the caged bird feels, alas! When the sun is bright on the upland slopes; When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass, And the river flows like a stream of glass; When the first bird sings and the first bud opes, And the faint perfume from its chalice steals-- I know what the caged bird feels!

I know why the caged bird beats his wing Till its blood is red on the cruel bars; For he must fly back to his pearch and cling When he fain would be on the bough a-swing; And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars And they pulse again with a keener sting-- I know why he beats his wing!

I know why the caged bird sings, ah me, When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,-- When he beats his bars and he would be free; It is not a carol of joy or glee, But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core, But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings-- I know why the caged bird sings!

#poetry #poems and such #paul laurence dunbar #sympathy

[petrashappyplace]

Sympathy

By Paul Laurence Dunbar

I know what the caged bird feels, alas!

When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;

When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,

And the river flows like a stream of glass;

When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,

And the faint perfume from its chalice steals—

I know what the caged bird feels!

I know why the caged bird beats his wing

Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;

For he must fly back to his perch and cling

When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;

And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars

And they pulse again with a keener sting—

I know why he beats his wing!

I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,

When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,—

When he beats his bars and he would be free;

It is not a carol of joy or glee,

But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core,

But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings—

I know why the caged bird sings!

#Sympathy #paul laurence dunbar #poetry #bbp #words #black poets