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1872–1906

VAGRANTS

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Long time ago, we two set out, My soul and I. I know not why, For all our way was dim with doubt.

I know not where We two may fare: Though still with every changing weather, We wander, groping on together.

We do not love, we are not friends, My soul and I. He lives a lie; Untruth lines every way he wends.

A scoffer he Who jeers at me: And so, my comrade and my brother, We wander on and hate each other.

Ay, there be taverns and to spare, Beside the road; But some strange goad Lets me not stop to taste their fare.

Knew I the goal Toward which my soul And I made way, hope made life fragrant: But no. We wander, aimless, vagrant!

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VAGRANTS · Paul Laurence Dunbar · Poetry Cove