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1872–1906

BLUE

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Standin’ at de winder, Feelin’ kind o’ glum, Listenin’ to de raindrops Play de kettle drum,

Lookin’ crost de medders Swimmin’ lak a sea; Lawd‘ a’ mussy on us, What's de good o’ me?

Ca n't go out a-hoein’, Would n't ef I could; Groun’ too wet fu’ huntin’, Fishin’ ai n't no good.

Too much noise fo’ sleepin’, No one hyeah to chat; Des mus’ stan’ an’ listen To dat pit-a-pat.

Hills is gittin’ misty,, Valley's gittin’ dahk; Watch-dog's‘ mence a-howlin’, Rathah have‘ em ba'k

Dan a-moanin’ solemn Somewhaih out o’ sight; Rain-crow des a-chucklin’ — Dis is his delight.

Mandy, bring my banjo, Bring de chillen in, Come in f'om de kitchen, I feel sick ez sin.

Call in Uncle Isaac, Call Aunt Hannah, too, Tai n't no use in talkin’, Chile, I's sholy blue.

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BLUE · Paul Laurence Dunbar · Poetry Cove