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… — Paul Laurence Dunbar Copy Share Image
I know why the caged bird sings, ah me, When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,- When he beats his bars and would be free; It is not a carol of joy or glee, But a prayer that… — Paul Laurence Dunbar Copy Share Image
Hope is tenacious. It goes on living and working when science has dealt it what should be its deathblow. — Paul Laurence Dunbar Copy Share Image
“Love me, honey, love me true? Love me well ez I love you? An' she answe'd, " 'Cose I do" -- Jump back, honey,… — Paul Laurence Dunbar Copy Share Image
I hope there is something worthy in my writings and not merely the novelty of a black face associated with the power to rhyme… — Paul Laurence Dunbar Copy Share Image
Washington is the city where the big men of little towns come to be disillusioned — Paul Laurence Dunbar Copy Share Image
It's all a farce, - these tales they tell About the breezes sighing, And moans astir o'er field and dell, Because the year is… — Paul Laurence Dunbar Copy Share Image
“Beyond the Years I the years the answer lies, Beyond where brood the grieving skies And Night drops tears. Where Faith rod-chastened smiles to… — Paul Laurence Dunbar Copy Share Image
This, this indeed is to be accursed, For if we mortals love, or if we sing, We count our joys not by what we… — Paul Laurence Dunbar Copy Share Image
“What dreams we have and how they fly Like rosy clouds across the sky; Of wealth, of fame, of sure success, Of love that… — Paul Laurence Dunbar Copy Share Image
The age is materialistic. Verse isn't. I must be with the age, so I am writing prose. — Paul Laurence Dunbar Copy Share Image
I know why the caged bird sings, ah me, when his wing is bruised and his bosom sore; when he beats his bars and… — Paul Laurence Dunbar Copy Share Image
We reduce the deity to vulgar fractions. We place our own little ambitions and label them ?divine messages?. With our short sight we affect… — Paul Laurence Dunbar Copy Share Image
A song fluttered down in the form of a dove, And it bore me a message, the one word-Love! — Paul Laurence Dunbar Copy Share Image
Slight was the thing I bought, small was the debt I thought, Poor was the loan at best - God! but the interest! — Paul Laurence Dunbar Copy Share Image
Taking it all in all and after all, negro life in Washington is a promise rather than a fulfillment. But it is worthy of… — Paul Laurence Dunbar Copy Share Image
