I wanted to wish you all a merry Christmas with a little touch of culture from one of my favorite poets. “Paul Laurence Dunbar was the first African-American to gain national eminence as a poet. His style encompasses two distinct voices—the standard English of the classical poet and the evocative dialect of the turn-of-the-century black community in America. He was gifted in poetry—the way that Mark Twain was in prose—in using dialect to convey character.” You can read more of his bio and works here.
I have included two examples that show the contrast of his unique and masterful styles. So in keeping with the season, please enjoy “Christmas Carol” and “Speakin O’ Christmas” by Paul Lawrence Dunbar.
Christmas Carol
Ring out, ye bells!
All Nature swells
With gladness of the wondrous story,
The world was lorn,
But Christ is born
To change our sadness into glory.
Sing, earthlings, sing!
To-night a King
Hath come from heaven’s high throne to bless us.
The outstretched hand
O’er all the land
Is raised in pity to caress us.
Come at His call;
Be joyful all;
Away with mourning and with sadness!
The heavenly choir
With holy fire
Their voices raise in songs of gladness.
The darkness breaks
And Dawn awakes,
Her cheeks suffused with youthful blushes.
The rocks and stones
In holy tones
Are singing sweeter than the thrushes.
Then why should we
In silence be,
When Nature lends her voice to praises;
When heaven and earth
Proclaim the truth
Of Him for whom that lone star blazes?
No, be not still,
But with a will
Strike all your harps and set them ringing;
On hill and heath
Let every breath
Throw all its power into singing!
Speakin' O' Christmas
Breezes blowin’ midlin’ brisk,
Snow-flakes thro’ the air a—whisk,
Fallin’ kind o’ soft an’ light,
Not enough to make things white,
But jest sorter siftin’ down
So’s to cover tip the brown
Of the world’s rugged ways
‘N’ make things look like holidays.
Not smoothed over, but jest specked.
Sorter strainin’ fur effect,
An’ not quite a-gittin' through
What it started in to do.
Mercy sakes! It docs seem queer
Christmas day is ’most nigh here.
Somehow it don’t seem to me
Christmas like it used to be,—
Christmas with its ice an’ snow,
Christmas of the long ago.
You could feel its stir an’ hum
Weeks an’ weeks before it come;
Somethin’ in the atmosphere
Told you when the day was near,
Didn’t need no almanacs;
That was one o’ Nature’s fac’s.
Every cottage decked out gay—
Cedar wreaths an’ holly spray—
An’ the stores, how they were drest,
Tinsel till you couldn’t rest’
Every winder fixed up pat,
Candy canes, an’ things like that,
Noah’s arks, an’ guns, an’ dolls,
An’ all kinds o’ fol-de-rols.
Then with frosty bells a-chime,
Slidin’ down the hills o’ time,
Right amidst the fun an’ din
Christmas come a bustlin’ in,
Raised his cheery voice to call
Out a welcome to us all;
Hale and hearty, strong an’ bluff,
That was Christmas, sure enough.
Snow knee-deep an’ coastin' fine,
Frozen mill-ponds all ashine,
Seemin’ jest to lay in wait,
Beggin’ you to come an’ skate,
An’ you’d git your gal an’ go
Stumpin’ cheerily thro’ the snow,
Feelin’ pleased an’ skeert an’ warm
‘Cause she had a-hol yore arm.
Why, when Christmas come in, we
Spent the whole glad day in glee
Havin’ fun and feastin’ high
An, some courtin’ on the sly.
Bustin’ in some neighbor's door
An’ then suddenly, before
He could give his voice a lift,
Yellin’ at him, “Christmas gift.”
Now such things are never heard,
“Merry Christmas” is the word.
But it’s only change o’ name,
An' means givin’ jest the same.
There’s too many new-styled ways
Now about the holidays.
I’d jest like once more to see
Christmas like it used to be!
Fallin’ kind o’ soft an’ light,
Not enough to make things white,
But jest sorter siftin’ down
So’s to cover tip the brown
Of the world’s rugged ways
‘N’ make things look like holidays.
Not smoothed over, but jest specked.
Sorter strainin’ fur effect,
An’ not quite a-gittin' through
What it started in to do.
Mercy sakes! It docs seem queer
Christmas day is ’most nigh here.
Somehow it don’t seem to me
Christmas like it used to be,—
Christmas with its ice an’ snow,
Christmas of the long ago.
You could feel its stir an’ hum
Weeks an’ weeks before it come;
Somethin’ in the atmosphere
Told you when the day was near,
Didn’t need no almanacs;
That was one o’ Nature’s fac’s.
Every cottage decked out gay—
Cedar wreaths an’ holly spray—
An’ the stores, how they were drest,
Tinsel till you couldn’t rest’
Every winder fixed up pat,
Candy canes, an’ things like that,
Noah’s arks, an’ guns, an’ dolls,
An’ all kinds o’ fol-de-rols.
Then with frosty bells a-chime,
Slidin’ down the hills o’ time,
Right amidst the fun an’ din
Christmas come a bustlin’ in,
Raised his cheery voice to call
Out a welcome to us all;
Hale and hearty, strong an’ bluff,
That was Christmas, sure enough.
Snow knee-deep an’ coastin' fine,
Frozen mill-ponds all ashine,
Seemin’ jest to lay in wait,
Beggin’ you to come an’ skate,
An’ you’d git your gal an’ go
Stumpin’ cheerily thro’ the snow,
Feelin’ pleased an’ skeert an’ warm
‘Cause she had a-hol yore arm.
Why, when Christmas come in, we
Spent the whole glad day in glee
Havin’ fun and feastin’ high
An, some courtin’ on the sly.
Bustin’ in some neighbor's door
An’ then suddenly, before
He could give his voice a lift,
Yellin’ at him, “Christmas gift.”
Now such things are never heard,
“Merry Christmas” is the word.
But it’s only change o’ name,
An' means givin’ jest the same.
There’s too many new-styled ways
Now about the holidays.
I’d jest like once more to see
Christmas like it used to be!