#AmericanWriters
Why do men smile when I speak, And call my speech The whimperings of a babe That cries but knows not what it w… Is it because I am black?
They shall go down unto Life’s Bo… Walk unafraid within that Living… Nor heed the driving rain of shot… That 'round them falls; but with u… Be one with mighty hosts, an arméd…
Ashamed of my race? And of what race an I? I am many in one. Thru my veins runs the blood Of Red Man, Black Man, Briton,…
From your life’s blood to coin a t… The past, the present and the futu… To hold—and weave it to a ringing… That sounds within the changing he…
Old memories come trooping down The vistas of the years; In blue-girt robes of pleasure cla… Or garbed in tears. Down from the days when hope was y…
The band of Gideon roam the sky, The howling wind is their war-cry, The thunder roll is their trump’s… And the lightning flash their veng… Each black cloud
Old November, sere and brown, Clothes the country, haunts the to… Sheds its cloak of withered leaves… Brings its sighing, soughing breez… Prophet of the dying year,
O why are there eyes like these, That sparkle and dapple and tease, So wide with the morning, so deep… Dancing and gleaming in passioned… O why are there eyes like these?
And Thou art One—One with th’ et… And with the flaming stars, and wi… Translucent, cold. The sentinel o… That clothes the sky in robes of l… The earth with warmth, the floweri…
I would not tarry if I could be g… Adown the path where calls my eage… That fate which knows naught but t… Holds me within its grasp, a helpl… And checks my steps when I would…
Sunless days and starless nights Bearing fruits of wrack and pain, Purge my lips of lover’s vows, Bid me never hope again. Yet the longing of my soul,
As I lie in bed, Flat on my back; There passes across my ceiling An endless panaroma of things— Quick steps of gay-voiced children…
Love is the soothing voice of gods To which men ever list. Love is the ease of soul’s travail And sorrow’s alchemist.
Peace to his ashes! I cannot for the soul of me Sorrowing bow, Tho I search through the heart of… Grieve for him now.
I know not why or whence he came Or how he chanced to go; I only know he brought me love, And going, left me woe. I do not ask that he turn back