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Paul Laurence Dunbar

1872 AD — 1906 AD

American poet whose work uses several voices and forms. Complete poems give the setting needed to interpret anthology selections about love, attention and missed opportunities.

Author and source reference ↗
▷ Play this voiceSearch within this voice ↗Place in time ↗lovelifeknowledgeworkpeacejusticewisdomtime
Historical source references

Life and writing

Paul Laurence Dunbar was born in Dayton in 1872 and died there in 1906. The Academy of American Poets identifies his parents as formerly enslaved people and describes his poetry alongside fiction and other writing. That background gives context without reducing his work to one style or turning its speakers into a single biographical voice. The archive already holds an attribution identity for Dunbar; this profile adds referenced editorial context rather than inventing an author or authenticating every associated record.

Academy of American Poets — Paul Laurence Dunbar ↗ Academy biography: Dayton birth, lifetime, family background and writing

The Master-Player presents love as the performer who draws a response from a worn harp. The Sparrow moves from an unnoticed bird to images of peace, hope and love ignored amid busy work. Reading the poems together distinguishes emotional renewal from the cost of inattention. Both anthology selections have checked locations in the 1922 collection, with wording differences retained: assayed versus essayed in the harp poem and Then taps versus Ten taps in the linked digital sparrow text. The comparison does not establish the original printed reading of the apparent latter discrepancy.

Historical related reading — The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar ↗ Dodd, Mead 1922 Complete Poems: The Master-Player and The Sparrow

Reading this voice

Read The Master-Player and The Sparrow in full, then examine other registers in the collection rather than treating two hopeful selections as a portrait of the whole writer. Eight associated records comprise three signed historical anthology selections and five independently unverified supplied entries. The Dodd, Mead printing is dated 1922, while Dunbar’s lifetime ends in 1906; neither date is silently substituted for a poem’s composition date.

Subjects to explore

Editorial reading connections, distinct from the archive’s word matching.

A work to read

Begin with these archive passages

Editorial starting points from this author’s existing entries.

Profile sources and editorial status

Original agent-assisted editorial profile, checked 2026-10-05. No human review is recorded. Life dates are recorded to the year; they do not date individual quotations.

Archive entries

02Undated
A little bird with plumage brown, Beside my window flutters down, A moment chirps its little strain, Then taps upon my window-pane. And chirps again, and hops along, To call my notice to its song; But I work on, nor heed its lay, Till, in neglect, it flies away. So birds of peace and hope and love Come fluttering earthward from above, To settle on life's window-sills, And ease our load of earthly ills; But we, in traffic's rush and din Too deep engaged to let them in, With deadened heart and sense plod on, Nor know our loss till they are gone.
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05Undated
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!
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08Undated
Beyond the YearsI the years the answer lies,Beyond where brood the grieving skies And Night drops tears.Where Faith rod-chastened smiles to rise And doff its fears,And carping Sorrow pines and dies— Beyond the years.IIBeyond the years the prayer for restShall beat no more within the breast; The darkness clears,And Morn perched on the mountain's crest Her form uprears—The day that is to come is best, Beyond the years.IIIBeyond the years the soul shall findThat endless peace for which it pined, For light appears,And to the eyes that still were blind With blood and tears,Their sight shall come all unconfined Beyond the years.
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