#Americans #Blacks #XIXCentury
MY soul, lost in the music’s mist… Roamed, rapt, 'neath skies of amet… The cheerless streets grew summer… The Son of Phœbus spurred his ste… And, wand’ring down the mazy tune,
TIM Murphy’s gon’ walkin’ wid Ma… O chone! If I was her muther, I’d frown on… O chone! I’m sure its unmutherlike, darin’…
Seen my lady home las’ night, Jump back, honey, jump back. Hel’ huh han’ an’ sque’z it tight, Jump back, honey, jump back. Hyeahd huh sigh a little sigh,
THE change has come, and Helen s… Not sleeps; but wakes to greater d… Of wisdom, glory, truth, and light… Than ever blessed her seeking sigh… In this low, long, lethargic night…
LOVE used to carry a bow, you kn… But now he carries a taper; It is either a length of wax aglow… Or a twist of lighted paper. I pondered a little about the scam…
She sang, and I listened the whol… (It was sweet, so sweet, the singi… The stars were out and the moon it… From a wee soft glimmer way out in… To a bird thro’ the heavens wingin…
THE rain streams down like harp—s… The wind, that world—old harpist,… And ever as he sings his low refra… He plays upon the harp—strings of…
This poem must be done to—day; Then, I 'll e’en to it. I must not dream my time away,— I ‘m sure to rue it. The day is rather bright, I know
AN old man planted and dug and te… Toiling in joy from dew to dew; The sun was kind, and the rain bef… Fine grew his orchard and fair to… Then he said: ‘I will quiet my th…
MY muvver’s ist the nicest one 'At ever lived wiz folks; She lets you have ze mostes’ fun, An’ laffs at all your jokes. I got a ol’ maid auntie, too,
Hurt was the nation with a mighty… And all her ways were filled with… Wailed loud the South with unremi… And wept the North that could not… Then madness joined its harshest t…
A man of low degree was sore oppre… Fate held him under iron—handed sw… And ever, those who saw him thus d… Would bid him bend his stubborn wi… But he, strong in himself and obdu…
A BEE that was searching for swe… Through the gate of a rose garden… In the heart of a rose he hid away… And forgot in his bliss the light… As sipping his honey he buzzed in…
We is gathahed hyeah, my brothahs, In dis howlin’ wildaness, Fu’ to speak some words of comfo’t To each othah in distress. An’ we chooses fu’ ouah subjic’
This is the debt I pay Just for one riotous day, Years of regret and grief, Sorrow without relief. Pay it I will to the end —
