Category: 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…

G’way an’ quit dat noise, Miss Lucy— Put dat music book away; What’s de use to keep on tryin’? Ef you practise twell you’re gray, You cain’t sta’t no notes a-flyin’ Lak de ones dat rants and rings F’om de kitchen to de big woods When Malindy sings. 8 You ain’t got de nachel o’gans…