diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17884-8.txt | 3015 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17884-8.zip | bin | 0 -> 39312 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17884-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 61356 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17884-h/17884-h.htm | 3288 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17884-h/images/image_1.jpg | bin | 0 -> 14480 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17884.txt | 3015 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17884.zip | bin | 0 -> 39283 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
10 files changed, 9334 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/17884-8.txt b/17884-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..57a09a6 --- /dev/null +++ b/17884-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3015 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Fifty years & Other Poems, by James Weldon Johnson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Fifty years & Other Poems + +Author: James Weldon Johnson + +Commentator: Brander Matthews + +Release Date: March 1, 2006 [EBook #17884] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTY YEARS & OTHER POEMS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + FIFTY YEARS & OTHER POEMS + + + BY + + JAMES WELDON JOHNSON + + AUTHOR OF + + "THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN EX-COLORED MAN," ETC. + + + + _With an Introduction by_ + + BRANDER MATTHEWS + + + + + THE CORNHILL COMPANY + BOSTON + 1917 + + + + +To + +G. N. F. + + + + +ACKNOWLEDGMENT + + +For permission to reprint certain poems in this book thanks are due to +the editors and proprietors of the _Century Magazine_, the +_Independent_, _The Crisis_, _The New York Times_, and the following +copyright holders, G. Ricordi and Company, G. Schirmer and Company, +and Joseph W. Stern and Company. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +Fifty Years + +To America + +O Black and Unknown Bards + +O Southland + +To Horace Bumstead + +The Color Sergeant + +The Black Mammy + +Father, Father Abraham + +Brothers + +Fragment + +The White Witch + +Mother Night + +The Young Warrior + +The Glory of the Day Was in Her Face + +From the Spanish of Plácido + +From the Spanish + +From the German of Uhland + +Before a Painting + +I Hear the Stars Still Singing + +Girl of Fifteen + +The Suicide + +Down by the Carib Sea + I. Sunrise in the Tropics + II. Los Cigarillos +III. Teestay + IV. The Lottery Girl + V. The Dancing Girl + VI. Sunset in the Tropics + +The Greatest of These Is War + +A Mid-Day Dreamer + +The Temptress + +Ghosts of the Old Year + +The Ghost of Deacon Brown + +Lazy + +Omar + +Deep in the Quiet Wood + +Voluptas + +The Word of an Engineer + +Life + +Sleep + +Prayer at Sunrise + +The Gift to Sing + +Morning, Noon and Night + +Her Eyes Twin Pools + +The Awakening + +Beauty That Is Never Old + +Venus in a Garden + +Vashti + +The Reward + + +JINGLES & CROONS + + +Sence You Went Away + +Ma Lady's Lips Am Like de Honey + +Tunk + +Nobody's Lookin' but de Owl an' de Moon + +You's Sweet to Yo' Mammy Jes de Same + +A Plantation Bacchanal + +July in Georgy + +A Banjo Song + +Answer to Prayer + +Dat Gal o' Mine + +The Seasons + +'Possum Song + +Brer Rabbit, You'se de Cutes' of 'Em All + +An Explanation + +De Little Pickaninny's Gone to Sleep + +The Rivals + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +Of the hundred millions who make up the population of the United +States ten millions come from a stock ethnically alien to the other +ninety millions. They are not descended from ancestors who came here +voluntarily, in the spirit of adventure to better themselves or in the +spirit of devotion to make sure of freedom to worship God in their own +way. They are the grandchildren of men and women brought here against +their wills to serve as slaves. It is only half-a-century since they +received their freedom and since they were at last permitted to own +themselves. They are now American citizens, with the rights and the +duties of other American citizens; and they know no language, no +literature and no law other than those of their fellow citizens of +Anglo-Saxon ancestry. + +When we take stock of ourselves these ten millions cannot be left out +of account. Yet they are not as we are; they stand apart, more or +less; they have their own distinct characteristics. It behooves us to +understand them as best we can and to discover what manner of people +they are. And we are justified in inquiring how far they have revealed +themselves, their racial characteristics, their abiding traits, their +longing aspirations,--how far have they disclosed these in one or +another of the several arts. They have had their poets, their +painters, their composers, and yet most of these have ignored their +racial opportunity and have worked in imitation and in emulation of +their white predecessors and contemporaries, content to handle again +the traditional themes. The most important and the most significant +contributions they have made to art are in music,--first in the +plaintive beauty of the so-called "Negro spirituals"--and, secondly, +in the syncopated melody of so-called "ragtime" which has now taken +the whole world captive. + +In poetry, especially in the lyric, wherein the soul is free to find +full expression for its innermost emotions, their attempts have been, +for the most part, divisible into two classes. In the first of these may +be grouped the verses in which the lyrist put forth sentiments common to +all mankind and in no wise specifically those of his own race; and from +the days of Phyllis Wheatley to the present the most of the poems +written by men who were not wholly white are indistinguishable from the +poems written by men who were wholly white. Whatever their merits might +be, these verses cast little or no light upon the deeper racial +sentiments of the people to whom the poets themselves belonged. But in +the lyrics to be grouped in the second of these classes there was a +racial quality. This contained the dialect verses in which there was an +avowed purpose of recapturing the color, the flavor, the movement of +life in "the quarters," in the cotton field and in the canebrake. Even +in this effort, white authors had led the way; Irvin Russell and Joel +Chandler Harris had made the path straight for Paul Laurence Dunbar, +with his lilting lyrics, often infused with the pathos of a down-trodden +folk. + +In the following pages Mr. James Weldon Johnson conforms to both of +these traditions. He gathers together a group of lyrics, delicate in +workmanship, fragrant with sentiment, and phrased in pure and +unexceptionable English. Then he has another group of dialect verses, +racy of the soil, pungent in flavor, swinging in rhythm and adroit in +rhyme. But where he shows himself a pioneer is the half-dozen larger +and bolder poems, of a loftier strain, in which he has been nobly +successful in expressing the higher aspirations of his own people. It +is in uttering this cry for recognition, for sympathy, for +understanding, and above all, for justice, that Mr. Johnson is most +original and most powerful. In the superb and soaring stanzas of +"Fifty Years" (published exactly half-a-century after the signing of +the Emancipation Proclamation) he has given us one of the noblest +commemorative poems yet written by any American,--a poem sonorous in +its diction, vigorous in its workmanship, elevated in its imagination +and sincere in its emotion. In it speaks the voice of his race; and +the race is fortunate in its spokesman. In it a fine theme has been +finely treated. In it we are made to see something of the soul of the +people who are our fellow citizens now and forever,--even if we do not +always so regard them. In it we are glad to acclaim a poem which any +living poet might be proud to call his own. + +BRANDER MATTHEWS. + +_Columbia University +in the City of New York._ + + + + +FIFTY YEARS & OTHER POEMS + +FIFTY YEARS + +1863-1913 + + + O brothers mine, to-day we stand + Where half a century sweeps our ken, + Since God, through Lincoln's ready hand, + Struck off our bonds and made us men. + + Just fifty years--a winter's day-- + As runs the history of a race; + Yet, as we look back o'er the way, + How distant seems our starting place! + + Look farther back! Three centuries! + To where a naked, shivering score, + Snatched from their haunts across the seas, + Stood, wild-eyed, on Virginia's shore. + + Far, far the way that we have trod, + From heathen kraals and jungle dens, + To freedmen, freemen, sons of God, + Americans and Citizens. + + A part of His unknown design, + We've lived within a mighty age; + And we have helped to write a line + On history's most wondrous page. + + A few black bondmen strewn along + The borders of our eastern coast, + Now grown a race, ten million strong, + An upward, onward marching host. + + Then let us here erect a stone, + To mark the place, to mark the time; + A witness to God's mercies shown, + A pledge to hold this day sublime. + + And let that stone an altar be, + Whereon thanksgivings we may lay, + Where we, in deep humility, + For faith and strength renewed may pray. + + With open hearts ask from above + New zeal, new courage and new pow'rs, + That we may grow more worthy of + This country and this land of ours. + + For never let the thought arise + That we are here on sufferance bare; + Outcasts, asylumed 'neath these skies, + And aliens without part or share. + + This land is ours by right of birth, + This land is ours by right of toil; + We helped to turn its virgin earth, + Our sweat is in its fruitful soil. + + Where once the tangled forest stood,-- + Where flourished once rank weed and thorn,-- + Behold the path-traced, peaceful wood, + The cotton white, the yellow corn. + + To gain these fruits that have been earned, + To hold these fields that have been won, + Our arms have strained, our backs have burned, + Bent bare beneath a ruthless sun. + + That Banner which is now the type + Of victory on field and flood-- + Remember, its first crimson stripe + Was dyed by Attucks' willing blood. + + And never yet has come the cry-- + When that fair flag has been assailed-- + For men to do, for men to die, + That have we faltered or have failed. + + We've helped to bear it, rent and torn, + Through many a hot-breath'd battle breeze; + Held in our hands, it has been borne + And planted far across the seas. + + And never yet--O haughty Land, + Let us, at least, for this be praised-- + Has one black, treason-guided hand + Ever against that flag been raised. + + Then should we speak but servile words, + Or shall we hang our heads in shame? + Stand back of new-come foreign hordes, + And fear our heritage to claim? + + No! stand erect and without fear, + And for our foes let this suffice-- + We've bought a rightful sonship here, + And we have more than paid the price. + + And yet, my brothers, well I know + The tethered feet, the pinioned wings, + The spirit bowed beneath the blow, + The heart grown faint from wounds and stings; + + The staggering force of brutish might, + That strikes and leaves us stunned and daezd; + The long, vain waiting through the night + To hear some voice for justice raised. + + Full well I know the hour when hope + Sinks dead, and 'round us everywhere + Hangs stifling darkness, and we grope + With hands uplifted in despair. + + Courage! Look out, beyond, and see + The far horizon's beckoning span! + Faith in your God-known destiny! + We are a part of some great plan. + + Because the tongues of Garrison + And Phillips now are cold in death, + Think you their work can be undone? + Or quenched the fires lit by their breath? + + Think you that John Brown's spirit stops? + That Lovejoy was but idly slain? + Or do you think those precious drops + From Lincoln's heart were shed in vain? + + That for which millions prayed and sighed, + That for which tens of thousands fought, + For which so many freely died, + God cannot let it come to naught. + + + + +TO AMERICA + + + How would you have us, as we are? + Or sinking 'neath the load we bear? + Our eyes fixed forward on a star? + Or gazing empty at despair? + + Rising or falling? Men or things? + With dragging pace or footsteps fleet? + Strong, willing sinews in your wings? + Or tightening chains about your feet? + + + + +O BLACK AND UNKNOWN BARDS + + + O black and unknown bards of long ago, + How came your lips to touch the sacred fire? + How, in your darkness, did you come to know + The power and beauty of the minstrel's lyre? + Who first from midst his bonds lifted his eyes? + Who first from out the still watch, lone and long, + Feeling the ancient faith of prophets rise + Within his dark-kept soul, burst into song? + + Heart of what slave poured out such melody + As "Steal away to Jesus"? On its strains + His spirit must have nightly floated free, + Though still about his hands he felt his chains. + Who heard great "Jordan roll"? Whose starward eye + Saw chariot "swing low"? And who was he + That breathed that comforting, melodic sigh, + "Nobody knows de trouble I see"? + + What merely living clod, what captive thing, + Could up toward God through all its darkness grope, + And find within its deadened heart to sing + These songs of sorrow, love, and faith, and hope? + How did it catch that subtle undertone, + That note in music heard not with the ears? + How sound the elusive reed so seldom blown, + Which stirs the soul or melts the heart to tears. + + Not that great German master in his dream + Of harmonies that thundered amongst the stars + At the creation, ever heard a theme + Nobler than "Go down, Moses." Mark its bars, + How like a mighty trumpet-call they stir + The blood. Such are the notes that men have sung + Going to valorous deeds; such tones there were + That helped make history when Time was young. + + There is a wide, wide wonder in it all, + That from degraded rest and servile toil + The fiery spirit of the seer should call + These simple children of the sun and soil. + O black slave singers, gone, forgot, unfamed, + You--you alone, of all the long, long line + Of those who've sung untaught, unknown, unnamed, + Have stretched out upward, seeking the divine. + + You sang not deeds of heroes or of kings; + No chant of bloody war, no exulting pean + Of arms-won triumphs; but your humble strings + You touched in chord with music empyrean. + You sang far better than you knew; the songs + That for your listeners' hungry hearts sufficed + Still live,--but more than this to you belongs: + You sang a race from wood and stone to Christ. + + + + +O SOUTHLAND! + + + O Southland! O Southland! + Have you not heard the call, + The trumpet blown, the word made known + To the nations, one and all? + The watchword, the hope-word, + Salvation's present plan? + A gospel new, for all--for you: + Man shall be saved by man. + + O Southland! O Southland! + Do you not hear to-day + The mighty beat of onward feet, + And know you not their way? + 'Tis forward, 'tis upward, + On to the fair white arch + Of Freedom's dome, and there is room + For each man who would march. + + O Southland, fair Southland! + Then why do you still cling + To an idle age and a musty page, + To a dead and useless thing? + 'Tis springtime! 'Tis work-time! + The world is young again! + And God's above, and God is love, + And men are only men. + + O Southland! my Southland! + O birthland! do not shirk + The toilsome task, nor respite ask, + But gird you for the work. + Remember, remember + That weakness stalks in pride; + That he is strong who helps along + The faint one at his side. + + + + +_To_ HORACE BUMSTEAD + + + Have you been sore discouraged in the fight, + And even sometimes weighted by the thought + That those with whom and those for whom you fought + Lagged far behind, or dared but faintly smite? + And that the opposing forces in their might + Of blind inertia rendered as for naught + All that throughout the long years had been wrought, + And powerless each blow for Truth and Right? + + If so, take new and greater courage then, + And think no more withouten help you stand; + For sure as God on His eternal throne + Sits, mindful of the sinful deeds of men, + --The awful Sword of Justice in His hand,-- + You shall not, no, you shall not, fight alone. + + + + +THE COLOR SERGEANT + +(_On an Incident at the Battle of San Juan Hill_) + + + Under a burning tropic sun, + With comrades around him lying, + A trooper of the sable Tenth + Lay wounded, bleeding, dying. + + First in the charge up the fort-crowned hill, + His company's guidon bearing, + He had rushed where the leaden hail fell fast, + Not death nor danger fearing. + + He fell in the front where the fight grew fierce, + Still faithful in life's last labor; + Black though his skin, yet his heart as true + As the steel of his blood-stained saber. + + And while the battle around him rolled, + Like the roar of a sullen breaker, + He closed his eyes on the bloody scene, + And presented arms to his Maker. + + There he lay, without honor or rank, + But, still, in a grim-like beauty; + Despised of men for his humble race, + Yet true, in death, to his duty. + + + + +THE BLACK MAMMY + + + O whitened head entwined in turban gay, + O kind black face, O crude, but tender hand, + O foster-mother in whose arms there lay + The race whose sons are masters of the land! + It was thine arms that sheltered in their fold, + It was thine eyes that followed through the length + Of infant days these sons. In times of old + It was thy breast that nourished them to strength. + + So often hast thou to thy bosom pressed + The golden head, the face and brow of snow; + So often has it 'gainst thy broad, dark breast + Lain, set off like a quickened cameo. + Thou simple soul, as cuddling down that babe + With thy sweet croon, so plaintive and so wild, + Came ne'er the thought to thee, swift like a stab, + That it some day might crush thine own black child? + + + + +FATHER, FATHER ABRAHAM + +(_On the Anniversary of Lincoln's Birth_) + + + Father, Father Abraham, + To-day look on us from above; + On us, the offspring of thy faith, + The children of thy Christ-like love. + + For that which we have humbly wrought, + Give us to-day thy kindly smile; + Wherein we've failed or fallen short, + Bear with us, Father, yet awhile. + + Father, Father Abraham, + To-day we lift our hearts to thee, + Filled with the thought of what great price + Was paid, that we might ransomed be. + + To-day we consecrate ourselves + Anew in hand and heart and brain, + To send this judgment down the years: + The ransom was not paid in vain. + + + + +BROTHERS + + + See! There he stands; not brave, but with an air + Of sullen stupor. Mark him well! Is he + Not more like brute than man? Look in his eye! + No light is there; none, save the glint that shines + In the now glaring, and now shifting orbs + Of some wild animal caught in the hunter's trap. + + How came this beast in human shape and form? + Speak, man!--We call you man because you wear + His shape--How are you thus? Are you not from + That docile, child-like, tender-hearted race + Which we have known three centuries? Not from + That more than faithful race which through three wars + Fed our dear wives and nursed our helpless babes + Without a single breach of trust? Speak out! + + I am, and am not. + + Then who, why are you? + + I am a thing not new, I am as old + As human nature. I am that which lurks, + Ready to spring whenever a bar is loosed; + The ancient trait which fights incessantly + Against restraint, balks at the upward climb; + The weight forever seeking to obey + The law of downward pull;--and I am more: + The bitter fruit am I of planted seed; + The resultant, the inevitable end + Of evil forces and the powers of wrong. + + Lessons in degradation, taught and learned, + The memories of cruel sights and deeds, + The pent-up bitterness, the unspent hate + Filtered through fifteen generations have + Sprung up and found in me sporadic life. + In me the muttered curse of dying men, + On me the stain of conquered women, and + Consuming me the fearful fires of lust, + Lit long ago, by other hands than mine. + In me the down-crushed spirit, the hurled-back prayers + Of wretches now long dead,--their dire bequests.-- + In me the echo of the stifled cry + Of children for their bartered mothers' breasts. + I claim no race, no race claims me; I am + No more than human dregs; degenerate; + The monstrous offspring of the monster, Sin; + I am--just what I am.... The race that fed + Your wives and nursed your babes would do the same + To-day, but I-- + + Enough, the brute must die! + Quick! Chain him to that oak! It will resist + The fire much longer than this slender pine. + Now bring the fuel! Pile it 'round him! Wait! + Pile not so fast or high! or we shall lose + The agony and terror in his face. + And now the torch! Good fuel that! the flames + Already leap head-high. Ha! hear that shriek! + And there's another! wilder than the first. + Fetch water! Water! Pour a little on + The fire, lest it should burn too fast. Hold so! + Now let it slowly blaze again. See there! + He squirms! He groans! His eyes bulge wildly out, + Searching around in vain appeal for help! + Another shriek, the last! Watch how the flesh + Grows crisp and hangs till, turned to ash, it sifts + Down through the coils of chain that hold erect + The ghastly frame against the bark-scorched tree. + + Stop! to each man no more than one man's share. + You take that bone, and you this tooth; the chain-- + Let us divide its links; this skull, of course, + In fair division, to the leader comes. + + And now his fiendish crime has been avenged; + Let us back to our wives and children.--Say, + What did he mean by those last muttered words, + "Brothers in spirit, brothers in deed are we"? + + + + +FRAGMENT + + + The hand of Fate cannot be stayed, + The course of Fate cannot be steered, + By all the gods that man has made, + Nor all the devils he has feared, + Not by the prayers that might be prayed + In all the temples he has reared. + + See! In your very midst there dwell + Ten thousand thousand blacks, a wedge + Forged in the furnaces of hell, + And sharpened to a cruel edge + By wrong and by injustice fell, + And driven by hatred as a sledge. + + A wedge so slender at the start-- + Just twenty slaves in shackles bound-- + And yet, which split the land apart + With shrieks of war and battle sound, + Which pierced the nation's very heart, + And still lies cankering in the wound. + + Not all the glory of your pride, + Preserved in story and in song, + Can from the judging future hide, + Through all the coming ages long, + That though you bravely fought and died, + You fought and died for what was wrong. + + 'Tis fixed--for them that violate + The eternal laws, naught shall avail + Till they their error expiate; + Nor shall their unborn children fail + To pay the full required weight + Into God's great, unerring scale. + + Think not repentance can redeem, + That sin his wages can withdraw; + No, think as well to change the scheme + Of worlds that move in reverent awe; + Forgiveness is an idle dream, + God is not love, no, God is law. + + + + +THE WHITE WITCH + + + O, brothers mine, take care! Take care! + The great white witch rides out to-night, + Trust not your prowess nor your strength; + Your only safety lies in flight; + For in her glance there is a snare, + And in her smile there is a blight. + + The great white witch you have not seen? + Then, younger brothers mine, forsooth, + Like nursery children you have looked + For ancient hag and snaggled tooth; + But no, not so; the witch appears + In all the glowing charms of youth. + + Her lips are like carnations red, + Her face like new-born lilies fair, + Her eyes like ocean waters blue, + She moves with subtle grace and air, + And all about her head there floats + The golden glory of her hair. + + But though she always thus appears + In form of youth and mood of mirth, + Unnumbered centuries are hers, + The infant planets saw her birth; + The child of throbbing Life is she, + Twin sister to the greedy earth. + + And back behind those smiling lips, + And down within those laughing eyes, + And underneath the soft caress + Of hand and voice and purring sighs, + The shadow of the panther lurks, + The spirit of the vampire lies. + + For I have seen the great white witch, + And she has led me to her lair, + And I have kissed her red, red lips + And cruel face so white and fair; + Around me she has twined her arms, + And bound me with her yellow hair. + + I felt those red lips burn and sear + My body like a living coal; + Obeyed the power of those eyes + As the needle trembles to the pole; + And did not care although I felt + The strength go ebbing from my soul. + + Oh! she has seen your strong young limbs, + And heard your laughter loud and gay, + And in your voices she has caught + The echo of a far-off day, + When man was closer to the earth; + And she has marked you for her prey. + + She feels the old Antĉan strength + In you, the great dynamic beat + Of primal passions, and she sees + In you the last besieged retreat + Of love relentless, lusty, fierce, + Love pain-ecstatic, cruel-sweet. + + O, brothers mine, take care! Take care! + The great white witch rides out to-night. + O, younger brothers mine, beware! + Look not upon her beauty bright; + For in her glance there is a snare, + And in her smile there is a blight. + + + + +MOTHER NIGHT + + + Eternities before the first-born day, + Or ere the first sun fledged his wings of flame, + Calm Night, the everlasting and the same, + A brooding mother over chaos lay. + And whirling suns shall blaze and then decay, + Shall run their fiery courses and then claim + The haven of the darkness whence they came; + Back to Nirvanic peace shall grope their way. + + So when my feeble sun of life burns out, + And sounded is the hour for my long sleep, + I shall, full weary of the feverish light, + Welcome the darkness without fear or doubt, + And heavy-lidded, I shall softly creep + Into the quiet bosom of the Night. + + + + +THE YOUNG WARRIOR + + + Mother, shed no mournful tears, + But gird me on my sword; + And give no utterance to thy fears, + But bless me with thy word. + + The lines are drawn! The fight is on! + A cause is to be won! + Mother, look not so white and wan; + Give Godspeed to thy son. + + Now let thine eyes my way pursue + Where'er my footsteps fare; + And when they lead beyond thy view, + Send after me a prayer. + + But pray not to defend from harm, + Nor danger to dispel; + Pray, rather, that with steadfast arm + I fight the battle well. + + Pray, mother of mine, that I always keep + My heart and purpose strong, + My sword unsullied and ready to leap + Unsheathed against the wrong. + + + + +THE GLORY OF THE DAY WAS IN HER FACE + + + The glory of the day was in her face, + The beauty of the night was in her eyes. + And over all her loveliness, the grace + Of Morning blushing in the early skies. + + And in her voice, the calling of the dove; + Like music of a sweet, melodious part. + And in her smile, the breaking light of love; + And all the gentle virtues in her heart. + + And now the glorious day, the beauteous night, + The birds that signal to their mates at dawn, + To my dull ears, to my tear-blinded sight + Are one with all the dead, since she is gone. + + + + +SONNET + +(_From the Spanish of Plácido_) + + + Enough of love! Let break its every hold! + Ended my youthful folly! for I know + That, like the dazzling, glister-shedding snow, + Celia, thou art beautiful, but cold. + I do not find in thee that warmth which glows, + Which, all these dreary days, my heart has sought, + That warmth without which love is lifeless, naught + More than a painted fruit, a waxen rose. + + Such love as thine, scarce can it bear love's name, + Deaf to the pleading notes of his sweet lyre, + A frank, impulsive heart I wish to claim, + A heart that blindly follows its desire. + I wish to embrace a woman full of flame, + I want to kiss a woman made of fire. + + + + +FROM THE SPANISH + + + Twenty years go by on noiseless feet, + He returns, and once again they meet, + She exclaims, "Good heavens! and is that he?" + He mutters, "My God! and that is she!" + + + + +FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND + + + Three students once tarried over the Rhine, + And into Frau Wirthin's turned to dine. + + "Say, hostess, have you good beer and wine? + And where is that pretty daughter of thine?" + + "My beer and wine is fresh and clear. + My daughter lies on her funeral bier." + + They softly tipped into the room; + She lay there in the silent gloom. + + The first the white cloth gently raised, + And tearfully upon her gazed. + + "If thou wert alive, O, lovely maid, + My heart at thy feet would to-day be laid!" + + The second covered her face again, + And turned away with grief and pain. + + "Ah, thou upon thy snow-white bier! + And I have loved thee so many a year." + + The third drew back again the veil, + And kissed the lips so cold and pale. + + "I've loved thee always, I love thee to-day, + And will love thee, yes, forever and aye!" + + + + +BEFORE A PAINTING + + + I knew not who had wrought with skill so fine + What I beheld; nor by what laws of art + He had created life and love and heart + On canvas, from mere color, curve and line. + Silent I stood and made no move or sign; + Not with the crowd, but reverently apart; + Nor felt the power my rooted limbs to start, + But mutely gazed upon that face divine. + + And over me the sense of beauty fell, + As music over a raptured listener to + The deep-voiced organ breathing out a hymn; + Or as on one who kneels, his beads to tell, + There falls the aureate glory filtered through + The windows in some old cathedral dim. + + + + +I HEAR THE STARS STILL SINGING + + + I hear the stars still singing + To the beautiful, silent night, + As they speed with noiseless winging + Their ever westward flight. + I hear the waves still falling + On the stretch of lonely shore, + But the sound of a sweet voice calling + I shall hear, alas! no more. + + + + +GIRL OF FIFTEEN + + + Girl of fifteen, + I see you each morning from my window + As you pass on your way to school. + I do more than see, I watch you. + I furtively draw the curtain aside. + And my heart leaps through my eyes + And follows you down the street; + Leaving me behind, half-hid + And wholly ashamed. + + What holds me back, + Half-hid behind the curtains and wholly ashamed, + But my forty years beyond your fifteen? + + Girl of fifteen, as you pass + There passes, too, a lightning flash of time + In which you lift those forty summers off my head, + And take those forty winters out of my heart. + + + + +THE SUICIDE + + + For fifty years, + Cruel, insatiable Old World, + You have punched me over the heart + Till you made me cough blood. + The few paltry things I gathered + You snatched out of my hands. + You have knocked the cup from my thirsty lips. + You have laughed at my hunger of body and soul. + + You look at me now and think, + "He is still strong, + There ought to be twenty more years of good punching there. + At the end of that time he will be old and broken, + Not able to strike back, + But cringing and crying for leave + To live a little longer." + + Those twenty, pitiful, extra years + Would please you more than the fifty past, + Would they not, Old World? + Well, I hold them up before your greedy eyes, + And snatch them away as I laugh in your face, + Ha! Ha! + Bang--! + + + + +DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA + +I + +_Sunrise in the Tropics_ + + + Sol, Sol, mighty lord of the tropic zone, + Here I wait with the trembling stars + To see thee once more take thy throne. + + There the patient palm tree watching + Waits to say, "Good morn" to thee, + And a throb of expectation + Pulses through the earth and me. + + Now, o'er nature falls a hush, + Look! the East is all a-blush; + And a growing crimson crest + Dims the late stars in the west; + Now, a flood of golden light + Sweeps across the silver night, + Swift the pale moon fades away + Before the light-girt King of Day, + See! the miracle is done! + Once more behold! The Sun! + + +II + +_Los Cigarillos_ + + + This is the land of the dark-eyed _gente_, + Of the _dolce far niente_, + Where we dream away + Both the night and day, + At night-time in sleep our dreams we invoke, + Our dreams come by day through the redolent smoke, + As it lazily curls, + And slowly unfurls + From our lips, + And the tips + Of our fragrant _cigarillos_. + For life in the tropics is only a joke, + So we pass it in dreams, and we pass it in smoke, + Smoke--smoke--smoke. + + Tropical constitutions + Call for occasional revolutions; + But after that's through, + Why there's nothing to do + But smoke--smoke; + + For life in the tropics is only a joke, + So we pass it in dreams, and we pass it in smoke, + Smoke--smoke--smoke. + + +III + +_Teestay_ + + + Of tropic sensations, the worst + Is, _sin duda_, the tropical thirst. + + When it starts in your throat and constantly grows, + Till you feel that it reaches down to your toes, + When your mouth tastes like fur + And your tongue turns to dust, + There's but one thing to do, + And do it you must, + Drink _teestay_. + + _Teestay_, a drink with a history, + A delicious, delectable mystery, + "_Cinco centavos el vaso, señor_," + If you take one, you will surely want more. + + _Teestay, teestay_, + The national drink on a feast day; + How it coolingly tickles, + As downward it trickles, + _Teestay, teestay_. + + And you wish, as you take it down at a quaff, + That your neck was constructed à la giraffe. + _Teestay, teestay_. + + +IV + +_The Lottery Girl_ + + + "Lottery, lottery, + Take a chance at the lottery? + Take a ticket, + Or, better, take two; + Who knows what the future + May hold for you? + Lottery, lottery, + Take a chance at the lottery?" + + Oh, limpid-eyed girl, + I would take every chance, + If only the prize + Were a love-flashing glance + From your fathomless eyes. + + "Lottery, lottery, + Try your luck at the lottery? + Consider the size + Of the capital prize, + And take tickets + For the lottery. + Tickets, _señor_? Tickets, _señor_? + Take a chance at the lottery?" + + Oh, crimson-lipped girl, + With the magical smile, + I would count that the gamble + Were well worth the while, + Not a chance would I miss, + If only the prize + Were a honey-bee kiss + Gathered in sips + From those full-ripened lips, + And a love-flashing glance + From your eyes. + + +V + +_The Dancing Girl_ + + + Do you know what it is to dance? + Perhaps, you do know, in a fashion; + But by dancing I mean, + Not what's generally seen, + But dancing of fire and passion, + Of fire and delirious passion. + + With a dusky-haired _señorita_, + Her dark, misty eyes near your own, + And her scarlet-red mouth, + Like a rose of the south, + The reddest that ever was grown, + So close that you catch + Her quick-panting breath + As across your own face it is blown, + With a sigh, and a moan. + + Ah! that is dancing, + As here by the Carib it's known. + + Now, whirling and twirling + Like furies we go; + Now, soft and caressing + And sinuously slow; + With an undulating motion, + Like waves on a breeze-kissed ocean:-- + And the scarlet-red mouth + Is nearer your own, + And the dark, misty eyes + Still softer have grown. + + Ah! that is dancing, that is loving, + As here by the Carib they're known. + + +VI + +_Sunset in the Tropics_ + + + A silver flash from the sinking sun, + Then a shot of crimson across the sky + That, bursting, lets a thousand colors fly + And riot among the clouds; they run, + Deepening in purple, flaming in gold, + Changing, and opening fold after fold, + Then fading through all of the tints of the rose into gray, + Till, taking quick fright at the coming night, + They rush out down the west, + In hurried quest + Of the fleeing day. + + Now above where the tardiest color flares a moment yet, + One point of light, now two, now three are set + To form the starry stairs,-- + And, in her fire-fly crown, + Queen Night, on velvet slippered feet, comes softly down. + + + + +AND THE GREATEST OF THESE IS WAR + + + Around the council-board of Hell, with Satan at their head, + The Three Great Scourges of humanity sat. + Gaunt Famine, with hollow cheek and voice, arose and spoke,-- + "O, Prince, I have stalked the earth, + And my victims by ten thousands I have slain, + I have smitten old and young. + Mouths of the helpless old moaning for bread, I have filled with dust; + And I have laughed to see a crying babe tug at the shriveling breast + Of its mother, dead and cold. + I have heard the cries and prayers of men go up to a tearless sky, + And fall back upon an earth of ashes; + But, heedless, I have gone on with my work. + 'Tis thus, O, Prince, that I have scourged mankind." + + And Satan nodded his head. + + Pale Pestilence, with stenchful breath, then spoke and said,-- + "Great Prince, my brother, Famine, attacks the poor. + He is most terrible against the helpless and the old. + But I have made a charnel-house of the mightiest cities of men. + When I strike, neither their stores of gold or of grain avail. + With a breath I lay low their strongest, and wither up their fairest. + I come upon them without warning, lancing invisible death. + From me they flee with eyes and mouths distended; + I poison the air for which they gasp, and I strike them down fleeing. + 'Tis thus, great Prince, that I have scourged mankind." + + And Satan nodded his head. + + Then the red monster, War, rose up and spoke,-- + His blood-shot eyes glared 'round him, and his thundering voice + Echoed through the murky vaults of Hell.-- + "O, mighty Prince, my brothers, Famine and Pestilence, + Have slain their thousands and ten thousands,--true; + But the greater their victories have been, + The more have they wakened in Man's breast + The God-like attributes of sympathy, of brotherhood and love + And made of him a searcher after wisdom. + But I arouse in Man the demon and the brute, + I plant black hatred in his heart and red revenge. + From the summit of fifty thousand years of upward climb + I haul him down to the level of the start, back to the wolf. + I give him claws. + I set his teeth into his brother's throat. + I make him drunk with his brother's blood. + And I laugh ho! ho! while he destroys himself. + O, mighty Prince, not only do I slay, + But I draw Man hellward." + + And Satan smiled, stretched out his hand, and said,-- + "O War, of all the scourges of humanity, I crown you chief." + + And Hell rang with the acclamation of the Fiends. + + + + +A MID-DAY DREAMER + + + I love to sit alone, and dream, + And dream, and dream; + In fancy's boat to softly glide + Along some stream + Where fairy palaces of gold + And crystal bright + Stand all along the glistening shore: + A wondrous sight. + + My craft is built of ivory, + With silver oars, + The sails are spun of golden threads, + And priceless stores + Of precious gems adorn its prow, + And 'round its mast + An hundred silken cords are set + To hold it fast. + + My galley-slaves are sprightly elves + Who, as they row, + And as their shining oars they swing + Them to and fro, + Keep time to music wafted on + The scented air, + Made by the mermaids as they comb + Their golden hair. + + And I the while lie idly back, + And dream, and dream, + And let them row me where they will + Adown the stream. + + + + +THE TEMPTRESS + + + Old Devil, when you come with horns and tail, + With diabolic grin and crafty leer; + I say, such bogey-man devices wholly fail + To waken in my heart a single fear. + + But when you wear a form I know so well, + A form so human, yet so near divine; + 'Tis then I fall beneath the magic of your spell, + 'Tis then I know the vantage is not mine. + + Ah! when you take your horns from off your head, + And soft and fragrant hair is in their place; + I must admit I fear the tangled path I tread + When that dear head is laid against my face. + + And at what time you change your baleful eyes + For stars that melt into the gloom of night, + All of my courage, my dear fellow, quickly flies; + I know my chance is slim to win the fight. + + And when, instead of charging down to wreck + Me on a red-hot pitchfork in your hand, + You throw a pair of slender arms about my neck, + I dare not trust the ground on which I stand. + + Whene'er in place of using patent wile, + Or trying to frighten me with horrid grin, + You tempt me with two crimson lips curved in a smile; + Old Devil, I must really own, you win. + + + + +GHOSTS OF THE OLD YEAR + + + The snow has ceased its fluttering flight, + The wind sunk to a whisper light, + An ominous stillness fills the night, + A pause--a hush. + At last, a sound that breaks the spell, + Loud, clanging mouthings of a bell, + That through the silence peal and swell, + And roll, and rush. + + What does this brazen tongue declare, + That falling on the midnight air + Brings to my heart a sense of care + Akin to fright? + 'Tis telling that the year is dead, + The New Year come, the Old Year fled, + Another leaf before me spread + On which to write. + + It tells the deeds that were not done, + It tells of races never run, + Of victories that were not won, + Barriers unleaped. + It tells of many a squandered day, + Of slighted gems and treasured clay, + Of precious stores not laid away, + Of fields unreaped. + + And so the years go swiftly by, + Each, coming, brings ambitions high, + And each, departing, leaves a sigh + Linked to the past. + Large resolutions, little deeds; + Thus, filled with aims unreached, life speeds + Until the blotted record reads, + "Failure!" at last. + + + + +THE GHOST OF DEACON BROWN + + + In a backwoods town + Lived Deacon Brown, + And he was a miser old; + He would trust no bank, + So he dug, and sank + In the ground a box of gold, + Down deep in the ground a box of gold. + + He hid his gold, + As has been told, + He remembered that he did it; + But sad to say, + On the very next day, + He forgot just where he hid it: + To find his gold he tried and tried + Till he grew faint and sick, and died. + + Then on each dark and gloomy night + A form in phosphorescent white, + A genuine hair-raising sight, + Would wander through the town. + And as it slowly roamed around, + With a spade it dug each foot of ground; + So the folks about + Said there was no doubt + 'Twas the ghost of Deacon Brown. + + Around the church + This Ghost would search, + And whenever it would see + The passers-by + Take wings and fly + It would laugh in ghostly glee, + Hee, hee!--it would laugh in ghostly glee. + + And so the town + Went quickly down, + For they said that it was haunted; + And doors and gates, + So the story states, + Bore a notice, "Tenants wanted." + + And the town is now for let, + But the ghost is digging yet. + + + + +"LAZY" + + + Some men enjoy the constant strife + Of days with work and worry rife, + But that is not my dream of life: + I think such men are crazy. + For me, a life with worries few, + A job of nothing much to do, + Just pelf enough to see me through: + I fear that I am lazy. + + On winter mornings cold and drear, + When six o'clock alarms I hear, + 'Tis then I love to shift my ear, + And hug my downy pillows. + When in the shade it's ninety-three, + No job in town looks good to me, + I'd rather loaf down by the sea, + And watch the foaming billows. + + Some people think the world's a school, + Where labor is the only rule; + But I'll not make myself a mule, + And don't you ever doubt it. + I know that work may have its use, + But still I feel that's no excuse + For turning it into abuse; + What do _you_ think about it? + + Let others fume and sweat and boil, + And scratch and dig for golden spoil, + And live the life of work and toil, + Their lives to labor giving. + But what is gold when life is sped, + And life is short, as has been said, + And we are such a long time dead, + I'll spend my life in living. + + + + +OMAR + + + Old Omar, jolly sceptic, it may be + That, after all, you found the magic key + To life and all its mystery, and I + Must own you have almost persuaded me. + + + + +DEEP IN THE QUIET WOOD + + + Are you bowed down in heart? + Do you but hear the clashing discords and the din of life? + Then come away, come to the peaceful wood, + Here bathe your soul in silence. Listen! Now, + From out the palpitating solitude + Do you not catch, yet faint, elusive strains? + They are above, around, within you, everywhere. + Silently listen! Clear, and still more clear, they come. + They bubble up in rippling notes, and swell in singing tones. + Now let your soul run the whole gamut of the wondrous scale + Until, responsive to the tonic chord, + It touches the diapason of God's grand cathedral organ, + Filling earth for you with heavenly peace + And holy harmonies. + + + + +VOLUPTAS + + + To chase a never-reached mirage + Across the hot, white sand, + And choke and die, while gazing on + Its green and watered strand. + + + + +THE WORD OF AN ENGINEER + + + "She's built of steel + From deck to keel, + And bolted strong and tight; + In scorn she'll sail + The fiercest gale, + And pierce the darkest night. + + "The builder's art + Has proved each part + Throughout her breadth and length; + Deep in the hulk, + Of her mighty bulk, + Ten thousand Titans' strength." + + The tempest howls, + The Ice Wolf prowls, + The winds they shift and veer, + But calm I sleep, + And faith I keep + In the word of an engineer. + + Along the trail + Of the slender rail + The train, like a nightmare, flies + And dashes on + Through the black-mouthed yawn + Where the cavernous tunnel lies. + + Over the ridge, + Across the bridge, + Swung twixt the sky and hell, + On an iron thread + Spun from the head + Of the man in a draughtsman's cell. + + And so we ride + Over land and tide, + Without a thought of fear-- + _Man never had + The faith in God + That he has in an engineer!_ + + + + +LIFE + + + Out of the infinite sea of eternity + To climb, and for an instant stand + Upon an island speck of time. + + From the impassible peace of the darkness + To wake, and blink at the garish light + Through one short hour of fretfulness. + + + + +SLEEP + + + O Sleep, thou kindest minister to man, + Silent distiller of the balm of rest, + How wonderful thy power, when naught else can, + To soothe the torn and sorrow-laden breast! + When bleeding hearts no comforter can find, + When burdened souls droop under weight of woe, + When thought is torture to the troubled mind, + When grief-relieving tears refuse to flow; + 'Tis then thou comest on soft-beating wings, + And sweet oblivion's peace from them is shed; + But ah, the old pain that the waking brings! + That lives again so soon as thou art fled! + + Man, why should thought of death cause thee to weep; + Since death be but an endless, dreamless sleep? + + + + +PRAYER AT SUNRISE + + + O mighty, powerful, dark-dispelling sun, + Now thou art risen, and thy day begun. + How shrink the shrouding mists before thy face, + As up thou spring'st to thy diurnal race! + How darkness chases darkness to the west, + As shades of light on light rise radiant from thy crest! + For thee, great source of strength, emblem of might, + In hours of darkest gloom there is no night. + Thou shinest on though clouds hide thee from sight, + And through each break thou sendest down thy light. + + O greater Maker of this Thy great sun, + Give me the strength this one day's race to run, + Fill me with light, fill me with sun-like strength, + Fill me with joy to rob the day its length. + Light from within, light that will outward shine, + Strength to make strong some weaker heart than mine, + Joy to make glad each soul that feels its touch; + Great Father of the sun, I ask this much. + + + + +THE GIFT TO SING + + + Sometimes the mist overhangs my path, + And blackening clouds about me cling; + But, oh, I have a magic way + To turn the gloom to cheerful day-- + I softly sing. + + And if the way grows darker still, + Shadowed by Sorrow's somber wing, + With glad defiance in my throat, + I pierce the darkness with a note, + And sing, and sing. + + I brood not over the broken past, + Nor dread whatever time may bring; + No nights are dark, no days are long, + While in my heart there swells a song, + And I can sing. + + + + +MORNING, NOON AND NIGHT + + + When morning shows her first faint flush, + I think of the tender blush + That crept so gently to your cheek + When first my love I dared to speak; + How, in your glance, a dawning ray + Gave promise of love's perfect day. + + When, in the ardent breath of noon, + The roses with passion swoon; + There steals upon me from the air + The scent that lurked within your hair; + I touch your hand, I clasp your form-- + Again your lips are close and warm. + + When comes the night with beauteous skies, + I think of your tear-dimmed eyes, + Their mute entreaty that I stay, + Although your lips sent me away; + And then falls memory's bitter blight, + And dark--so dark becomes the night. + + + + +HER EYES TWIN POOLS + + + Her eyes, twin pools of mystic light, + The blend of star-sheen and black night; + O'er which, to sound their glamouring haze, + A man might bend, and vainly gaze. + + Her eyes, twin pools so dark and deep, + In which life's ancient mysteries sleep; + Wherein, to seek the quested goal, + A man might plunge, and lose his soul. + + + + +THE AWAKENING + + + I dreamed that I was a rose + That grew beside a lonely way, + Close by a path none ever chose, + And there I lingered day by day. + Beneath the sunshine and the show'r + I grew and waited there apart, + Gathering perfume hour by hour, + And storing it within my heart, + Yet, never knew, + Just why I waited there and grew. + + I dreamed that you were a bee + That one day gaily flew along, + You came across the hedge to me, + And sang a soft, love-burdened song. + You brushed my petals with a kiss, + I woke to gladness with a start, + And yielded up to you in bliss + The treasured fragrance of my heart; + And then I knew + That I had waited there for you. + + + + +BEAUTY THAT IS NEVER OLD + + + When buffeted and beaten by life's storms, + When by the bitter cares of life oppressed, + I want no surer haven than your arms, + I want no sweeter heaven than your breast. + + When over my life's way there falls the blight + Of sunless days, and nights of starless skies; + Enough for me, the calm and steadfast light + That softly shines within your loving eyes. + + The world, for me, and all the world can hold + Is circled by your arms; for me there lies, + Within the lights and shadows of your eyes, + The only beauty that is never old. + + + + +VENUS IN A GARDEN + + + 'Twas at early morning, + The dawn was blushing in her purple bed, + When in a sweet, embowered garden + She, the fairest of the goddesses, + The lovely Venus, + Roamed amongst the roses white and red. + She sought for flowers + To make a garland + For her golden head. + + Snow-white roses, blood-red roses, + In that sweet garden close, + Offered incense to the goddess: + Both the white and the crimson rose. + + White roses, red roses, blossoming: + But the fair Venus knew + The crimson roses had gained their hue + From the hearts that for love had bled; + And the goddess made a garland + Gathered from the roses red. + + + + +VASHTI + + + I sometimes take you in my dreams to a far-off land I used to know, + Back in the ages long ago; a land of palms and languid streams. + + A land, by night, of jeweled skies, by day, of shores that glistened bright, + Within whose arms, outstretched and white, a sapphire sea lay crescent-wise. + + Where twilight fell like silver floss, where rose the golden moon half-hid + Behind a shadowy pyramid; a land beneath the Southern Cross. + + And there the days dreamed in their flight, each one a poem chanted through, + Which at its close was merged into the muted music of the night. + + And you were a princess in those days. And I--I was your serving lad. + But who ever served with heart so glad, or lived so for a word of praise? + + And if that word you chanced to speak, how all my senses swayed and reeled, + Till low beside your feet I kneeled, with happiness o'erwrought and weak. + + If, when your golden cup I bore, you deigned to lower your eyes to mine, + Eyes cold, yet fervid, like the wine, I knew not how to wish for more. + + I trembled at the thought to dare to gaze upon, to scrutinize + The deep-sea mystery of your eyes, the sun-lit splendor of your hair. + + To let my timid glances rest upon you long enough to note + How fair and slender was your throat, how white the promise of your breast. + + But though I did not dare to chance a lingering look, an open gaze + Upon your beauty's blinding rays, I ventured many a stolen glance. + + I fancy, too, (but could not state what trick of mind the fancy caused) + At times your eyes upon me paused, and marked my figure lithe and straight. + + Once when my eyes met yours it seemed that in your cheek, despite your pride, + A flush arose and swiftly died; or was it something that I dreamed? + + Within your radiance like the star of morning, there I stood and served, + Close by, unheeded, unobserved. You were so near, and, yet, so far. + + Ah! just to stretch my hand and touch the musky sandals on your feet!-- + My breaking heart! of rapture sweet it never could have held so much. + + Oh, beauty-haunted memory! Your face so proud, your eyes so calm, + Your body like a slim young palm, and sinuous as a willow tree. + + Caught up beneath your slender arms, and girdled 'round your supple waist, + A robe of curious silk that graced, but only scarce concealed your charms. + + A golden band about your head, a crimson jewel at your throat + Which, when the sunlight on it smote, turned to a living heart and bled. + + But, oh, that mystic bleeding stone, that work of Nature's magic art, + Which mimicked so a wounded heart, could never bleed as did my own! + + Now after ages long and sad, in this stern land we meet anew; + No more a princess proud are you, and I--I am no serving lad. + + And yet, dividing us, I meet a wider gulf than that which stood + Between a princess of the blood and him who served low at her feet. + + + + +THE REWARD + + + No greater earthly boon than this I crave, + That those who some day gather 'round my grave, + In place of tears, may whisper of me then, + "He sang a song that reached the hearts of men." + + + + +JINGLES & CROONS + + +SENCE YOU WENT AWAY + + + Seems lak to me de stars don't shine so bright, + Seems lak to me de sun done loss his light, + Seems lak to me der's nothin' goin' right, + Sence you went away. + + Seems lak to me de sky ain't half so blue, + Seems lak to me dat ev'ything wants you, + Seems lak to me I don't know what to do, + Sence you went away. + + Seems lak to me dat ev'ything is wrong, + Seems lak to me de day's jes twice as long, + Seems lak to me de bird's forgot his song, + Sence you went away. + + Seems lak to me I jes can't he'p but sigh, + Seems lak to me ma th'oat keeps gittin' dry, + Seems lak to me a tear stays in ma eye, + Sence you went away. + + + + +MA LADY'S LIPS AM LIKE DE HONEY + +(_Negro Love Song_) + + + Breeze a-sighin' and a-blowin', + Southern summer night. + Stars a-gleamin' and a-glowin', + Moon jes shinin' right. + Strollin', like all lovers do, + Down de lane wid Lindy Lou; + Honey on her lips to waste; + 'Speck I'm gwine to steal a taste. + + Oh, ma lady's lips am like de honey, + Ma lady's lips am like de rose; + An' I'm jes like de little bee a-buzzin' + 'Round de flower wha' de nectah grows. + Ma lady's lips dey smile so temptin', + Ma lady's teeth so white dey shine, + Oh, ma lady's lips so tantalizin', + Ma lady's lips so close to mine. + + Bird a-whistlin' and a-swayin' + In de live-oak tree; + Seems to me he keeps a-sayin', + "Kiss dat gal fo' me." + Look heah, Mister Mockin' Bird, + Gwine to take you at yo' word; + If I meets ma Waterloo, + Gwine to blame it all on you. + + Oh, ma lady's lips am like de honey, + Ma lady's lips am like de rose; + An' I'm jes like de little bee a-buzzin' + 'Round de flower wha' de nectah grows. + Ma lady's lips dey smile so temptin', + Ma lady's teeth so white dey shine, + Oh, ma lady's lips so tantalizin', + Ma lady's lips so close to mine. + + Honey in de rose, I spose, is + Put der fo' de bee; + Honey on her lips, I knows, is + Put der jes fo' me. + Seen a sparkle in her eye, + Heard her heave a little sigh; + Felt her kinder squeeze ma han', + 'Nuff to make me understan'. + + + + +TUNK + +(_A Lecture on Modern Education_) + + + Look heah, Tunk!--Now, ain't dis awful! T'ought I sont you off to school. + Don't you know dat you is growin' up to be a reg'lah fool? + + Whah's dem books dat I's done bought you? Look heah, boy, you tell me quick, + Whah's dat Webster blue-back spellah an' dat bran' new 'rifmatic? + + W'ile I'm t'inkin' you is lahnin' in de school, why bless ma soul! + You off in de woods a-playin'. Can't you do like you is tole? + + Boy, I tell you, it's jes scan'lous d'way dat you is goin' on. + An' you sholy go'n be sorry, jes as true as you is bo'n. + + Heah I'm tryin' hard to raise you as a credit to dis race, + An' you tryin' heap much harder fu' to come up in disgrace. + + Dese de days w'en men don't git up to de top by hooks an' crooks; + Tell you now, dey's got to git der standin' on a pile o' books. + + W'en you sees a darkey goin' to de fiel' as soon as light, + Followin' a mule across it f'om de mawnin' tel de night, + + Wukin' all his life fu' vittles, hoein' 'tween de cott'n rows, + W'en he knocks off ole an' tiah'd, ownin' nut'n but his clo'es, + + You kin put it down to ignunce, aftah all what's done an' said, + You kin bet dat dat same darkey ain't got nut'n in his head. + + Ain't you seed dem w'ite men set'n in der awfice? Don't you know + Dey goes der 'bout nine each mawnin? Bless yo' soul, dey's out by fo'. + + Dey jes does a little writin'; does dat by some easy means; + Gals jes set an' play piannah on dem printin' press muchines. + + Chile, dem men knows how to figgah, how to use dat little pen, + An' dey knows dat blue-back spellah f'om beginnin' to de en'. + + Dat's de 'fect of education; dat's de t'ing what's gwine to rule; + Git dem books, you lazy rascal! Git back to yo' place in school! + + + + +NOBODY'S LOOKIN' BUT DE OWL AND DE MOON + +(_A Negro Serenade_) + + + De river is a-glistenin' in de moonlight, + De owl is set'n high up in de tree; + De little stars am twinklin' wid a sof' light, + De night seems only jes fu' you an' me. + Thoo de trees de breezes am a-sighin', + Breathin' out a sort o' lover's croon, + Der's nobody lookin' or a-spyin', + Nobody but de owl an' de moon. + + Nobody's lookin' but de owl an' de moon, + An' de night is balmy; fu' de month is June; + Come den, Honey, won't you? Come to meet me soon, + Wile nobody's lookin' but de owl an' de moon. + + I feel so kinder lonely all de daytime, + It seems I raly don't know what to do; + I jes keep sort a-longin' fu' de night-time, + 'Cause den I know dat I can be wid you. + An' de thought jes sets my brain a-swayin', + An' my heart a-beatin' to a tune; + Come, de owl won't tell w'at we's a-sayin', + An' cose you know we kin trus' de moon. + + + + +YOU'S SWEET TO YO' MAMMY JES DE SAME + +(_Lullaby_) + + + Shet yo' eyes, ma little pickaninny, go to sleep + Mammy's watchin' by you all de w'ile; + Daddy is a-wukin' down in de cott'n fiel', + Wukin' fu' his little honey child. + An' yo' mammy's heart is jes a-brimmin' full o' lub + Fu' you f'om yo' head down to yo' feet; + Oh, no mattah w'at some othah folks may t'ink o' you, + To yo' mammy's heart you's mighty sweet. + + You's sweet to yo' mammy jes de same; + Dat's why she calls you Honey fu' yo' name. + Yo' face is black, dat's true, + An' yo' hair is woolly, too, + But, you's sweet to yo' mammy jes de same. + + Up der in de big house w'ere dey lib so rich an' gran' + Dey's got chillen dat dey lubs, I s'pose; + Chillen dat is purty, oh, but dey can't lub dem mo' + Dan yo' mammy lubs you, heaben knows! + + Dey may t'ink you's homely, an' yo' clo'es dey may be po', + But yo' shinin' eyes, dey hol's a light + Dat, my Honey, w'en you opens dem so big an' roun', + Makes you lubly in yo' mammy's sight. + + + + +A PLANTATION BACCHANAL + + + W'en ole Mister Sun gits tiah'd a-hangin' + High up in de sky; + W'en der ain't no thunder and light'nin' a-bangin', + An' de crap's done all laid by; + W'en yo' bones ain't achin' wid de rheumatics, + Den yo' ride de mule to town, + Git a great big jug o' de ole corn juice, + An' w'en you drink her down-- + + Jes lay away ole Trouble, + An' dry up all yo' tears; + Yo' pleasure sho' to double + An' you bound to lose yo' keers. + Jes lay away ole Sorrer + High upon de shelf; + And never mind to-morrer, + 'Twill take care of itself. + + W'en ole Mister Age begins a-stealin' + Thoo yo' back an' knees, + W'en yo' bones an' jints lose der limber feelin', + An' am stiff'nin' by degrees; + Now der's jes one way to feel young and spry, + W'en you heah dem banjos soun' + Git a great big swig o' de ole corn juice, + An' w'en you drink her down-- + + Jes lay away ole Trouble, + An' dry up all yo' tears; + Yo' pleasure sho' to double + An' you bound to lose yo' keers. + Jes lay away ole Sorrer + High upon de shelf; + And never mind to-morrer, + 'Twill take care of itself. + + + + +JULY IN GEORGY + + + I'm back down in ole Georgy w'ere de sun is shinin' hot, + W'ere de cawn it is a-tasslin', gittin' ready fu' de pot; + + W'ere de cott'n is a-openin' an' a-w'itenin' in de sun, + An' de ripenin' o' de sugah-cane is mighty nigh begun. + + An' de locus' is a-singin' f'om eveh bush an' tree, + An' you kin heah de hummin' o' de noisy bumblebee; + + An' de mule he stan's a-dreamin' an' a-dreamin' in de lot, + An' de sun it is a-shinin' mighty hot, hot, hot. + + But evehbody is a-restin', fu' de craps is all laid by, + An' time fu' de camp-meetin' is a-drawin' purty nigh; + + An' we's put away de ploughshare, an' we's done hung up de spade, + An' we's eatin' watermelon, an' a-layin' in de shade. + + + + +A BANJO SONG + + + W'en de banjos wuz a-ringin', + An' de darkies wuz a-singin', + Oh, wuzen dem de good times sho! + All de ole folks would be chattin', + An' de pickaninnies pattin', + As dey heah'd de feet a-shufflin' 'cross de flo'. + + An' how we'd dance, an' how we'd sing! + Dance tel de day done break. + An' how dem banjos dey would ring, + An' de cabin flo' would shake! + + Come along, come along, + Come along, come along, + Don't you heah dem banjos a-ringin'? + + Gib a song, gib a song, + Gib a song, gib a song, + Git yo' feet fixed up fu' a-wingin'. + + W'ile de banjos dey go plunka, plunka, plunk, + We'll dance tel de ole flo' shake; + W'ile de feet keep a-goin' chooka, chooka, chook, + We'll dance tel de day done break. + + + + +ANSWER TO PRAYER + + + Der ain't no use in sayin' de Lawd won't answer prah; + If you knows how to ax Him, I knows He's bound to heah. + + De trouble is, some people don't ax de proper way, + Den w'en dey git's no answer dey doubts de use to pray. + + You got to use egzac'ly de 'spressions an' de words + To show dat 'tween yo' faith an' works, you 'pends on works two-thirds. + + Now, one time I remember--jes how long I won't say-- + I thought I'd like a turkey to eat on Chris'mus day. + + Fu' weeks I dreamed 'bout turkeys, a-struttin' in der pride; + But seed no way to get one--widout de Lawd pervide. + + An' so I went to prayin', I pray'd wid all my might; + "Lawd, sen' _to_ me a turkey." I pray'd bofe day an' night. + + "Lawd, sen' _to_ me a turkey, a big one if you please." + I 'clar to heaben I pray'd so much I mos' wore out ma knees. + + I pray'd dat prah so often, I pray'd dat prah so long, + Yet didn't git no turkey, I know'd 'twas sump'n wrong. + + So on de night 'fore Chris'mus w'en I got down to pray, + "Lawd, sen' _me_ to a turkey," I had de sense to say. + + "Lawd, sen' _me_ to a turkey." I know dat prah was right, + An' it was sholy answer'd; I got de bird dat night. + + + + +DAT GAL O' MINE + + + Skin as black an' jes as sof' as a velvet dress, + Teeth as white as ivory--well dey is I guess. + + Eyes dat's jes as big an' bright as de evenin' star; + An' dat hol' some sort o' light lublier by far. + + Hair don't hang 'way down her back; plaited up in rows; + Wid de two en's dat's behin' tied wid ribben bows. + + Han's dat raly wuz'n made fu' hard work, I'm sho'; + Got a little bit o' foot; weahs a numbah fo'. + + You jes oughtah see dat gal Sunday's w'en she goes + To de Baptis' meetin' house, dressed in her bes' clo'es. + + W'en she puts her w'ite dress on an' othah things so fine; + Now, Su', don't you know I'm proud o' dat gal o' mine. + + + + +THE SEASONS + + + W'en de leaves begin to fall, + An' de fros' is on de ground, + An' de 'simmons is a-ripenin' on de tree; + W'en I heah de dinner call, + An' de chillen gadder 'round, + 'Tis den de 'possum is de meat fu' me. + + W'en de wintertime am pas' + An' de spring is come at las', + W'en de good ole summer sun begins to shine; + Oh! my thoughts den tek a turn, + An' my heart begins to yearn + Fo' dat watermelon growin' on de vine. + + Now, de yeah will sholy bring + 'Round a season fu' us all, + Ev'y one kin pick his season f'om de res'; + But de melon in de spring, + An' de 'possum in de fall, + Mek it hard to tell which time o' year am bes'. + + + + +'POSSUM SONG + +(_A Warning_) + + + 'Simmons ripenin' in de fall, + You better run, + Brudder 'Possum, run! + Mockin' bird commence to call, + You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way! + You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way! + Run some whar an' hide! + Ole moon am sinkin' + Down behin' de tree. + Ole Eph am thinkin' + An' chuckelin' wid glee. + Ole Tige am blinkin' + An' frisky as kin be, + Yo' chances, Brudder 'Possum, + Look mighty slim to me. + + Run, run, run, I tell you, + Run, Brudder 'Possum, run! + Run, run, run, I tell you, + Ole Eph's got a gun. + Pickaninnies grinnin' + Waitin' fu' to see de fun. + You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way! + Run, Brudder 'Possum, run! + + Brudder 'Possum take a tip; + You better run, + Brudder 'Possum, run! + 'Tain't no use in actin' flip, + You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way! + You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way! + Run some whar an' hide. + Dey's gwine to houn' you + All along de line, + W'en dey done foun' you, + Den what's de use in sighin'? + Wid taters roun' you. + You sholy would tase fine-- + So listen, Brudder 'Possum, + You better be a-flyin'. + + Run, run, run, I tell you, + Run, Brudder 'Possum, run! + Run, run, run, I tell you, + Ole Eph's got a gun. + Pickaninnies grinnin' + Waitin' fu' to see de fun. + You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way! + Run, Brudder 'Possum, run! + + + + +BRER RABBIT, YOU'S DE CUTES' OF 'EM ALL + + + Once der was a meetin' in de wilderness, + All de critters of creation dey was dar; + Brer Rabbit, Brer 'Possum, Brer Wolf, Brer Fox, + King Lion, Mister Terrapin, Mister B'ar. + De question fu' discussion was, "Who is de bigges' man?" + Dey 'pinted ole Jedge Owl to decide; + He polished up his spectacles an' put 'em on his nose, + An' to the question slowly he replied: + + "Brer Wolf am mighty cunnin', + Brer Fox am mighty sly, + Brer Terrapin an' 'Possum--kinder small; + Brer Lion's mighty vicious, + Brer B'ar he's sorter 'spicious, + Brer Rabbit, you's de cutes' of 'em all." + + Dis caused a great confusion 'mongst de animals, + Ev'y critter claimed dat he had won de prize; + Dey 'sputed an' dey arg'ed, dey growled an' dey roared, + Den putty soon de dus' begin to rise. + + Brer Rabbit he jes' stood aside an' urged 'em on to fight. + Brer Lion he mos' tore Brer B'ar in two; + W'en dey was all so tiahd dat dey couldn't catch der bref + Brer Rabbit he jes' grabbed de prize an' flew. + + Brer Wolf am mighty cunnin', + Brer Fox am mighty sly, + Brer Terrapin an' Possum--kinder small; + Brer Lion's mighty vicious, + Brer B'ar he's sorter 'spicious, + Brer Rabbit, you's de cutes' of 'em all. + + + + +AN EXPLANATION + + + Look heah! 'Splain to me de reason + Why you said to Squire Lee, + Der wuz twelve ole chicken thieves + In dis heah town, includin' me. + Ef he tole you dat, my brudder, + He said sump'n dat warn't true; + W'at I said wuz dis, dat der wuz + Twelve, _widout_ includin' you. + + Oh!...!-- + + + + +DE LITTLE PICKANINNY'S GONE TO SLEEP + + + Cuddle down, ma honey, in yo' bed, + Go to sleep an' res' yo' little head, + Been a-kind o' ailin' all de day? + Didn't have no sperit fu' to play? + Never min'; to-morrer, w'en you wek, + Daddy's gwine to ride you on his bek, + 'Roun' an' roun' de cabin flo' so fas'-- + Der! He's closed his little eyes at las'. + + De little pickaninny's gone to sleep, + Cuddled in his trundle bed so tiny, + De little pickaninny's gone to sleep, + Closed his little eyes so bright an' shiny. + Hush! an' w'en you walk across de flo' + Step across it very sof' an' slow. + De shadders all aroun' begin to creep, + De little pickaninny's gone to sleep. + + Mandy, w'at's de matter wid dat chile? + Keeps a-sighin' ev'y little w'ile; + Seems to me I heayhd him sorter groan, + Lord! his little han's am col' as stone! + W'at's dat far-off light dat's in his eyes? + Dat's a light dey's borrow'd f'om de skies; + Fol' his little han's across his breas', + Let de little pickaninny res'. + + + + +THE RIVALS + + + Look heah! Is I evah tole you 'bout de curious way I won + Anna Liza? Say, I nevah? Well heah's how de thing wuz done. + + Lize, you know, wuz mighty purty--dat's been forty yeahs ago-- + 'N 'cos to look at her dis minit, you might'n spose dat it wuz so. + + She wuz jes de greates' 'traction in de county, 'n bless de lam'! + Eveh darkey wuz a-co'tin, but it lay 'twix me an' Sam. + + You know Sam. We both wuz wukin' on de ole John Tompkin's place. + 'N evehbody wuz a-watchin' t'see who's gwine to win de race. + + Hee! hee! hee! Now you mus' raley 'scuse me fu' dis snickering, + But I jes can't he'p f'om laffin' eveh time I tells dis thing. + + Ez I wuz a-sayin', me an' Sam wuked daily side by side, + He a-studyin', me a-studyin', how to win Lize fu' a bride. + + Well, de race was kinder equal, Lize wuz sorter on de fence; + Sam he had de mostes dollars, an' I had de mostes sense. + + Things dey run along 'bout eben tel der come Big Meetin' day; + Sam den thought, to win Miss Liza, he had foun' de shoest way. + + An' you talk about big meetin's! None been like it 'fore nor sence; + Der wuz sich a crowd o' people dat we had to put up tents. + + Der wuz preachers f'om de Eas', an' 'der wuz preachers f'om de Wes'; + Folks had kilt mos' eveh chicken, an' wuz fattenin' up de res'. + + Gals had all got new w'ite dresses, an' bought ribbens fu' der hair, + Fixin' fu' de openin' Sunday, prayin' dat de day'd be fair. + + Dat de Reveren' Jasper Jones of Mount Moriah, it wuz 'low'd, + Wuz to preach de openin' sermon; so you know der wuz a crowd. + + Fu' dat man wuz sho a preacher; had a voice jes like a bull; + So der ain't no use in sayin' dat de meetin' house wuz full. + + Folks wuz der f'om Big Pine Hollow, some come 'way f'om Muddy Creek, + Some come jes to stay fu' Sunday, but de crowd stay'd thoo de week. + + Some come ridin' in top-buggies wid de w'eels all painted red, + Pulled by mules dat run like rabbits, each one tryin' to git ahead. + + Othah po'rer folks come drivin' mules dat leaned up 'ginst de shaf', + Hitched to broke-down, creaky wagons dat looked like dey'd drap in half. + + But de bigges' crowd come walkin', wid der new shoes on der backs; + 'Scuse wuz dat dey couldn't weah em 'cause de heels wuz full o' tacks. + + Fact is, it's a job for Job, a-trudgin' in de sun an' heat, + Down a long an' dusty clay road wid yo' shoes packed full o' feet. + + 'Cose dey stopt an' put dem shoes on w'en dey got mos' to de do'; + Den dey had to grin an' bear it; dat tuk good religion sho. + + But I mos' forgot ma story,--well at las' dat Sunday came + And it seemed dat evehbody, blin' an' deef, an' halt an' lame, + + Wuz out in de grove a-waitin' fu' de meetin' to begin; + Ef dat crowd had got converted 'twould a been de end o' sin. + + Lize wuz der in all her glory, purty ez a big sunflowah, + I kin 'member how she looked jes same ez 'twuz dis ve'y houah. + + But to make ma story shorter, w'ile we wuz a-waitin' der, + Down de road we spied a cloud o' dus' dat filled up all de air. + + An' ez we kep' on a-lookin', out f'om 'mongst dat ve'y cloud, + Sam, on Marse John's big mule, Cĉsar, rode right slam up in de crowd. + + You jes oughtah seed dat darkey, 'clar I like tah loss ma bref; + Fu' to use a common 'spression, he wuz 'bout nigh dressed to def. + + He had slipped to town dat Sat'day, didn't let nobody know, + An' had car'yd all his cash an' lef it in de dry goods sto'. + + He had on a bran' new suit o' sto'-bought clo'es, a high plug hat; + He looked 'zactly like a gen'man, tain't no use d'nyin' dat. + + W'en he got down off dat mule an' bowed to Liza I could see + How she looked at him so 'dmirin', an' jes kinder glanced at me. + + Den I know'd to win dat gal, I sho would need some othah means + 'Sides a-hangin' 'round big meetin' in a suit o' homespun jeans. + + W'en dey blow'd de ho'n fu' preachin', an' de crowd all went inside, + I jes felt ez doh I'd like tah go off in de woods an' hide. + + So I stay'd outside de meetin', set'n underneat' de trees, + Seemed to me I sot der ages, wid ma elbows on ma knees. + + W'en dey sung dat hymn, "Nobody knows de trouble dat I see," + Seem'd to me dat dey wuz singin' eveh word o' it fu' me. + + Jes how long I might ha' sot der, actin' like a cussed fool, + I don't know, but it jes happen'd dat I look'd an' saw Sam's mule. + + An' de thought come slowly tricklin' thoo ma brain right der an' den, + Dat, perhaps, wid some persuasion, I could make dat mule ma fren'. + + An' I jes kep' on a-thinkin', an' I kep' a-lookin' 'roun', + Tel I spied two great big san' spurs right close by me on de groun'. + + Well, I took dem spurs an' put em underneat' o' Cĉsar's saddle, + So dey'd press down in his backbone soon ez Sam had got a-straddle. + + 'Twuz a pretty ticklish job, an' jes ez soon ez it wuz done, + I went back w'ere I wuz set'n fu' to wait an' see de fun. + + Purty soon heah come de people, jes a-swa'min' out de do', + Talkin' 'bout de "pow'ful sermon"--"nevah heah'd de likes befo'." + + How de "monahs fell convicted" jes de same ez lumps o' lead, + How dat some wuz still a-layin' same es if dey'd been struck dead. + + An' to rectly heah come Liza, Sam a-strollin' by her side, + An' it seem'd to me dat darky's smile wuz 'bout twelve inches wide. + + Look to me like he had swelled up to 'bout twice his natchul size, + An' I heah'd him say, "I'd like to be yo' 'scort to-night, Miss Lize." + + Den he made a bow jes like he's gwine to make a speech in school, + An' walk'd jes ez proud ez Marse John over to untie his mule, + + W'en Sam's foot fust touched de stirrup he know'd der wuz sump'n wrong; + 'Cuz de mule begin to tremble an' to sorter side along. + + Wen Sam raised his weight to mount him, Cĉsar bristled up his ear, + W'en Sam sot down in de saddle, den dat mule cummenced to rear. + + An' he reared an' pitched an' caper'd, only ez a mule kin pitch, + Tel he flung Sam clean f'om off him, landed him squar' in a ditch. + + Wen dat darky riz, well raly, I felt kinder bad fu' him; + He had bust dem cheap sto' britches f'om de center to de rim. + + All de plug hat dat wuz lef' him wuz de brim aroun' his neck, + Smear'd wid mud f'om top to bottom, well, he wuz a sight, I 'speck. + + Wuz de folks a-laffin'? Well, su', I jes sholy thought dey'd bus'; + Wuz Sam laffin'? 'Twuz de fus' time dat I evah heah'd him cuss. + + W'ile Sam slink'd off thoo de backwoods I walk'd slowly home wid Lize, + W'en I axed her jes one question der wuz sump'n in her eyes + + Made me know der wuz no need o' any answer bein' said, + An' I felt jes like de whole world wuz a-spinnin' 'roun' ma head. + + So I said, "Lize, w'en we marry, mus' I weah some sto'-bought clo'es?" + She says, "Jeans is good enough fu' any po' folks, heaben knows!" + + + + + _If homely virtues draw from me a tune + In happy jingle or a half-sad croon; + Or if the smoldering future should inspire + My hand to strike the seer's prophetic lyre; + Or if injustice, brutishness and wrong + Should make a blasting trumpet of my song; + O God, give beauty and strength--truth to my words, + Oh, may they fall like sweetly cadenced chords, + Or burn like beacon fires from out the dark, + Or speed like arrows, swift and sure, to the mark._ + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Fifty years & Other Poems, by James Weldon Johnson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTY YEARS & OTHER POEMS *** + +***** This file should be named 17884-8.txt or 17884-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/8/8/17884/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/17884-8.zip b/17884-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..212780f --- /dev/null +++ b/17884-8.zip diff --git a/17884-h.zip b/17884-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5bb89bb --- /dev/null +++ b/17884-h.zip diff --git a/17884-h/17884-h.htm b/17884-h/17884-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..76ecc4e --- /dev/null +++ b/17884-h/17884-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3288 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Fifty Years & Other Poems, by James Weldon Johnson. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + +a[name] {position:absolute;} + + a:link {color:#0000ff; text-decoration:none} + link {color:#0000ff; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:#0000ff; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:#ff0000} + + table { width:60%; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} +.tr {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 2em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: solid black 1px;} + .tocch { text-align: right; vertical-align: top;} + .tocpg {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ +.sig {margin-left:80%; } + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i3 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i5 {display: block; margin-left: 5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i7 {display: block; margin-left: 7em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i9 {display: block; margin-left: 9em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} +.poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i18 {display: block; margin-left: 18em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i23 {display: block; margin-left: 23em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i3 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Fifty years & Other Poems, by James Weldon Johnson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Fifty years & Other Poems + +Author: James Weldon Johnson + +Commentator: Brander Matthews + +Release Date: March 1, 2006 [EBook #17884] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTY YEARS & OTHER POEMS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + + + +<h1>FIFTY YEARS & OTHER POEMS</h1> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>JAMES WELDON JOHNSON</h2> + +<h4>AUTHOR OF</h4> + +<h4>"THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN EX-COLORED MAN," ETC.</h4> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h3><i>With an Introduction by</i></h3> + +<h2>BRANDER MATTHEWS</h2> +<p> </p> + +<div class="center"><img src="images/image_1.jpg" alt="Seal" width="150" height="177" /></div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h3>THE CORNHILL COMPANY<br /> +BOSTON<br /> +1917</h3> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="To" id="To"></a>To</h3> +<h2>G. N. F. </h2> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ACKNOWLEDGMENT" id="ACKNOWLEDGMENT"></a>ACKNOWLEDGMENT</h2> + + +<p>For permission to reprint certain poems in this book thanks are due to +the editors and proprietors of the <i>Century Magazine</i>, the +<i>Independent</i>, <i>The Crisis</i>, <i>The New York Times</i>, and the following +copyright holders, G. Ricordi and Company, G. Schirmer and Company, +and Joseph W. Stern and Company. </p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + + + + + + +<table summary="Contents"> +<tr><td ></td><td class="tocpg" ><i>Page</i></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#FIFTY_YEARS_OTHER_POEMS">Fifty Years</a></td> +<td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#TO_AMERICA">To America</a></td> +<td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#O_BLACK_AND_UNKNOWN_BARDS">O Black and Unknown Bards</a></td> +<td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_6">6</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#O_SOUTHLAND">O Southland</a></td> +<td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_8">8</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#To_HORACE_BUMSTEAD">To Horace Bumstead</a></td> +<td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#THE_COLOR_SERGEANT">The Color Sergeant</a></td> +<td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#THE_BLACK_MAMMY">The Black Mammy</a></td> +<td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#FATHER_FATHER_ABRAHAM">Father, Father Abraham</a></td> +<td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#BROTHERS">Brothers</a></td> +<td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#FRAGMENT">Fragment</a></td> +<td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#THE_WHITE_WITCH">The White Witch</a></td> +<td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#MOTHER_NIGHT">Mother Night</a></td> +<td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#THE_YOUNG_WARRIOR">The Young Warrior</a></td> +<td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#THE_GLORY_OF_THE_DAY_WAS_IN_HER_FACE">The Glory of the Day Was in Her Face</a></td> +<td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#SONNET">From the Spanish of Plácido</a></td> +<td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#FROM_THE_SPANISH">From the Spanish</a></td> +<td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#FROM_THE_GERMAN_OF_UHLAND">From the German of Uhland</a></td> +<td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#BEFORE_A_PAINTING">Before a Painting</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#I_HEAR_THE_STARS_STILL_SINGING">I Hear the Stars Still Singing</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#GIRL_OF_FIFTEEN">Girl of Fifteen</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#THE_SUICIDE">The Suicide</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#DOWN_BY_THE_CARIB_SEA">Down by the Carib Sea</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><span style="margin-left:2em;"><a href="#one">I. Sunrise in the Tropics</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><span style="margin-left:2em;"><a href="#two">II. Los Cigarillos</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><span style="margin-left:2em;"><a href="#three">III. Teestay</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><span style="margin-left:2em;"> <a href="#four">IV. The Lottery Girl</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><span style="margin-left:2em;"><a href="#five">V. The Dancing Girl</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><span style="margin-left:2em;"> <a href="#six">VI. Sunset in the Tropics</a></span></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#AND_THE_GREATEST_OF_THESE_IS_WAR">The Greatest of These Is War</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#A_MID-DAY_DREAMER">A Mid-Day Dreamer</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#THE_TEMPTRESS">The Temptress</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#GHOSTS_OF_THE_OLD_YEAR">Ghosts of the Old Year</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#THE_GHOST_OF_DEACON_BROWN">The Ghost of Deacon Brown</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#LAZY">Lazy</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#OMAR">Omar</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#DEEP_IN_THE_QUIET_WOOD">Deep in the Quiet Wood</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#VOLUPTAS">Voluptas</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#THE_WORD_OF_AN_ENGINEER">The Word of an Engineer</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#LIFE">Life</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#SLEEP">Sleep</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#PRAYER_AT_SUNRISE">Prayer at Sunrise</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#THE_GIFT_TO_SING">The Gift to Sing</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#MORNING_NOON_AND_NIGHT">Morning, Noon and Night</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#HER_EYES_TWIN_POOLS">Her Eyes Twin Pools</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#THE_AWAKENING">The Awakening</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#BEAUTY_THAT_IS_NEVER_OLD">Beauty That Is Never Old</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#VENUS_IN_A_GARDEN">Venus in a Garden</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#VASHTI">Vashti</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#THE_REWARD">The Reward</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td></tr> +<tr> + <td > </td> + <td> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#JINGLES_CROONS">JINGLES & CROONS</a></td><td> </td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td > </td> + <td> </td> +</tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#SENCE">Sence You Went Away</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#MA_LADYS_LIPS_AM_LIKE_DE_HONEY">Ma Lady's Lips Am Like de Honey</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#TUNK">Tunk</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#NOBODYS_LOOKIN_BUT_DE_OWL_AND_DE_MOON">Nobody's Lookin' but de Owl an' de Moon</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#YOUS_SWEET_TO_YO_MAMMY_JES_DE_SAME">You's Sweet to Yo' Mammy Jes de Same</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#A_PLANTATION_BACCHANAL">A Plantation Bacchanal</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#JULY_IN_GEORGY">July in Georgy</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#A_BANJO_SONG">A Banjo Song</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#ANSWER_TO_PRAYER">Answer to Prayer</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#DAT_GAL_O_MINE">Dat Gal o' Mine</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#THE_SEASONS">The Seasons</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#POSSUM_SONG">'Possum Song</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#BRER_RABBIT_YOUS_DE_CUTES_OF_EM_ALL">Brer Rabbit, You'se de Cutes' of 'Em All</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#AN_EXPLANATION">An Explanation</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#DE_LITTLE_PICKANINNYS_GONE_TO_SLEEP">De Little Pickaninny's Gone to Sleep</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr> +<tr><td ><a href="#THE_RIVALS">The Rivals</a></td> +<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr> +</table> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION"></a>INTRODUCTION</h2> + + +<p>Of the hundred millions who make up the population of the United +States ten millions come from a stock ethnically alien to the other +ninety millions. They are not descended from ancestors who came here +voluntarily, in the spirit of adventure to better themselves or in the +spirit of devotion to make sure of freedom to worship God in their own +way. They are the grandchildren of men and women brought here against +their wills to serve as slaves. It is only half-a-century since they +received their freedom and since they were at last permitted to own +themselves. They are now American citizens, with the rights and the +duties of other American citizens; and they know no language, no +literature and no law other than those of their fellow citizens of +Anglo-Saxon ancestry.</p> + +<p>When we take stock of ourselves these ten millions cannot be left out +of account. Yet they are not as we are; they stand apart, more or +less; they have their own distinct characteristics. It behooves us to +understand them as best we can and to discover what manner of people +they are. And we are justified in inquiring how far they have revealed +themselves,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[xii]</a></span> their racial characteristics, their abiding traits, their +longing aspirations,—how far have they disclosed these in one or +another of the several arts. They have had their poets, their +painters, their composers, and yet most of these have ignored their +racial opportunity and have worked in imitation and in emulation of +their white predecessors and contemporaries, content to handle again +the traditional themes. The most important and the most significant +contributions they have made to art are in music,—first in the +plaintive beauty of the so-called "Negro spirituals"—and, secondly, +in the syncopated melody of so-called "ragtime" which has now taken +the whole world captive.</p> + +<p>In poetry, especially in the lyric, wherein the soul is free to find +full expression for its innermost emotions, their attempts have been, +for the most part, divisible into two classes. In the first of these +may be grouped the verses in which the lyrist put forth sentiments +common to all mankind and in no wise specifically those of his own +race; and from the days of Phyllis Wheatley to the present the most of +the poems written by men who were not wholly white are +indistinguishable from the poems written by men who were wholly white. +Whatever their merits might be, these verses cast<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[xiii]</a></span> little or no light +upon the deeper racial sentiments of the people to whom the poets +themselves belonged. But in the lyrics to be grouped in the second of +these classes there was a racial quality. This contained the dialect +verses in which there was an avowed purpose of recapturing the color, +the flavor, the movement of life in "the quarters," in the cotton +field and in the canebrake. Even in this effort, white authors had led +the way; Irvin Russell and Joel Chandler Harris had made the path +straight for Paul Laurence Dunbar, with his lilting lyrics, often +infused with the pathos of a down-trodden folk.</p> + +<p>In the following pages Mr. James Weldon Johnson conforms to both of +these traditions. He gathers together a group of lyrics, delicate in +workmanship, fragrant with sentiment, and phrased in pure and +unexceptionable English. Then he has another group of dialect verses, +racy of the soil, pungent in flavor, swinging in rhythm and adroit in +rhyme. But where he shows himself a pioneer is the half-dozen larger +and bolder poems, of a loftier strain, in which he has been nobly +successful in expressing the higher aspirations of his own people. It +is in uttering this cry for recognition, for sympathy, for +understanding, and above all, for justice, that Mr. Johnson is most +original and most powerful. In the superb and soaring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[xiv]</a></span> stanzas of +"Fifty Years" (published exactly half-a-century after the signing of +the Emancipation Proclamation) he has given us one of the noblest +commemorative poems yet written by any American,—a poem sonorous in +its diction, vigorous in its workmanship, elevated in its imagination +and sincere in its emotion. In it speaks the voice of his race; and +the race is fortunate in its spokesman. In it a fine theme has been +finely treated. In it we are made to see something of the soul of the +people who are our fellow citizens now and forever,—even if we do not +always so regard them. In it we are glad to acclaim a poem which any +living poet might be proud to call his own.</p> + + +<p class="sig"><span class="smcap">Brander Matthews</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Columbia University</i><br /> + +<i>in the City of New York.</i> </p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="FIFTY_YEARS_OTHER_POEMS" id="FIFTY_YEARS_OTHER_POEMS"></a>FIFTY YEARS & OTHER POEMS </h2> + +<h3>FIFTY YEARS</h3> +<h3>1863-1913</h3> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O brothers mine, to-day we stand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where half a century sweeps our ken,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since God, through Lincoln's ready hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Struck off our bonds and made us men.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Just fifty years—a winter's day—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As runs the history of a race;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, as we look back o'er the way,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How distant seems our starting place!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Look farther back! Three centuries!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To where a naked, shivering score,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snatched from their haunts across the seas,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stood, wild-eyed, on Virginia's shore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far, far the way that we have trod,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From heathen kraals and jungle dens,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To freedmen, freemen, sons of God,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Americans and Citizens.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A part of His unknown design,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We've lived within a mighty age;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we have helped to write a line<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On history's most wondrous page.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A few black bondmen strewn along<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The borders of our eastern coast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now grown a race, ten million strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An upward, onward marching host.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then let us here erect a stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To mark the place, to mark the time;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A witness to God's mercies shown,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A pledge to hold this day sublime.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And let that stone an altar be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whereon thanksgivings we may lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where we, in deep humility,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For faith and strength renewed may pray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With open hearts ask from above<br /></span> +<span class="i2">New zeal, new courage and new pow'rs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That we may grow more worthy of<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This country and this land of ours.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For never let the thought arise<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That we are here on sufferance bare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Outcasts, asylumed 'neath these skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And aliens without part or share.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This land is ours by right of birth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This land is ours by right of toil;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We helped to turn its virgin earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our sweat is in its fruitful soil.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where once the tangled forest stood,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where flourished once rank weed and thorn,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold the path-traced, peaceful wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The cotton white, the yellow corn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To gain these fruits that have been earned,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hold these fields that have been won,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our arms have strained, our backs have burned,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bent bare beneath a ruthless sun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That Banner which is now the type<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of victory on field and flood—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remember, its first crimson stripe<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was dyed by Attucks' willing blood.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And never yet has come the cry—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When that fair flag has been assailed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For men to do, for men to die,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That have we faltered or have failed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We've helped to bear it, rent and torn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Through many a hot-breath'd battle breeze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Held in our hands, it has been borne<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And planted far across the seas.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And never yet—O haughty Land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let us, at least, for this be praised—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has one black, treason-guided hand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ever against that flag been raised.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then should we speak but servile words,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or shall we hang our heads in shame?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stand back of new-come foreign hordes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And fear our heritage to claim?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No! stand erect and without fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And for our foes let this suffice—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We've bought a rightful sonship here,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And we have more than paid the price.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And yet, my brothers, well I know<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tethered feet, the pinioned wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spirit bowed beneath the blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The heart grown faint from wounds and stings;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The staggering force of brutish might,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That strikes and leaves us stunned and daezd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The long, vain waiting through the night<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To hear some voice for justice raised.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Full well I know the hour when hope<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sinks dead, and 'round us everywhere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hangs stifling darkness, and we grope<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With hands uplifted in despair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Courage! Look out, beyond, and see<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The far horizon's beckoning span!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faith in your God-known destiny!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We are a part of some great plan.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Because the tongues of Garrison<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Phillips now are cold in death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think you their work can be undone?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or quenched the fires lit by their breath?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Think you that John Brown's spirit stops?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That Lovejoy was but idly slain?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or do you think those precious drops<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From Lincoln's heart were shed in vain?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That for which millions prayed and sighed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That for which tens of thousands fought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For which so many freely died,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">God cannot let it come to naught.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TO_AMERICA" id="TO_AMERICA"></a>TO AMERICA</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How would you have us, as we are?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or sinking 'neath the load we bear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our eyes fixed forward on a star?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or gazing empty at despair?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rising or falling? Men or things?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With dragging pace or footsteps fleet?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strong, willing sinews in your wings?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or tightening chains about your feet?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="O_BLACK_AND_UNKNOWN_BARDS" id="O_BLACK_AND_UNKNOWN_BARDS"></a>O BLACK AND UNKNOWN BARDS</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O black and unknown bards of long ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How came your lips to touch the sacred fire?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How, in your darkness, did you come to know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The power and beauty of the minstrel's lyre?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who first from midst his bonds lifted his eyes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who first from out the still watch, lone and long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feeling the ancient faith of prophets rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within his dark-kept soul, burst into song?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heart of what slave poured out such melody<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As "Steal away to Jesus"? On its strains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His spirit must have nightly floated free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though still about his hands he felt his chains.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who heard great "Jordan roll"? Whose starward eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw chariot "swing low"? And who was he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That breathed that comforting, melodic sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nobody knows de trouble I see"?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What merely living clod, what captive thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could up toward God through all its darkness grope,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And find within its deadened heart to sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These songs of sorrow, love, and faith, and hope?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How did it catch that subtle undertone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That note in music heard not with the ears?<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span><span class="i0">How sound the elusive reed so seldom blown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which stirs the soul or melts the heart to tears.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not that great German master in his dream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of harmonies that thundered amongst the stars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the creation, ever heard a theme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nobler than "Go down, Moses." Mark its bars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How like a mighty trumpet-call they stir<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blood. Such are the notes that men have sung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Going to valorous deeds; such tones there were<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That helped make history when Time was young.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is a wide, wide wonder in it all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That from degraded rest and servile toil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fiery spirit of the seer should call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These simple children of the sun and soil.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O black slave singers, gone, forgot, unfamed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You—you alone, of all the long, long line<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of those who've sung untaught, unknown, unnamed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have stretched out upward, seeking the divine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You sang not deeds of heroes or of kings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No chant of bloody war, no exulting pean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of arms-won triumphs; but your humble strings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You touched in chord with music empyrean.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span><span class="i0">You sang far better than you knew; the songs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That for your listeners' hungry hearts sufficed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still live,—but more than this to you belongs:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You sang a race from wood and stone to Christ.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="O_SOUTHLAND" id="O_SOUTHLAND"></a>O SOUTHLAND!</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Southland! O Southland!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Have you not heard the call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The trumpet blown, the word made known<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the nations, one and all?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The watchword, the hope-word,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Salvation's present plan?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A gospel new, for all—for you:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Man shall be saved by man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Southland! O Southland!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Do you not hear to-day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mighty beat of onward feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And know you not their way?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis forward, 'tis upward,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On to the fair white arch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Freedom's dome, and there is room<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For each man who would march.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Southland, fair Southland!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then why do you still cling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To an idle age and a musty page,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To a dead and useless thing?<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span><span class="i0">'Tis springtime! 'Tis work-time!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The world is young again!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And God's above, and God is love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And men are only men.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Southland! my Southland!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O birthland! do not shirk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The toilsome task, nor respite ask,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But gird you for the work.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remember, remember<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That weakness stalks in pride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he is strong who helps along<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The faint one at his side.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="To_HORACE_BUMSTEAD" id="To_HORACE_BUMSTEAD"></a><i>To</i> HORACE BUMSTEAD</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Have you been sore discouraged in the fight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And even sometimes weighted by the thought<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That those with whom and those for whom you fought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lagged far behind, or dared but faintly smite?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that the opposing forces in their might<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of blind inertia rendered as for naught<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All that throughout the long years had been wrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And powerless each blow for Truth and Right?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If so, take new and greater courage then,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And think no more withouten help you stand;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For sure as God on His eternal throne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sits, mindful of the sinful deeds of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">—The awful Sword of Justice in His hand,—<br /> +</span> +<span class="i4">You shall not, no, you shall not, fight alone.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_COLOR_SERGEANT" id="THE_COLOR_SERGEANT"></a>THE COLOR SERGEANT</h2> + +<h3>(<i>On an Incident at the Battle of San Juan Hill</i>)</h3> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Under a burning tropic sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With comrades around him lying,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A trooper of the sable Tenth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lay wounded, bleeding, dying.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">First in the charge up the fort-crowned hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His company's guidon bearing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had rushed where the leaden hail fell fast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not death nor danger fearing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He fell in the front where the fight grew fierce,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still faithful in life's last labor;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Black though his skin, yet his heart as true<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the steel of his blood-stained saber.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And while the battle around him rolled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the roar of a sullen breaker,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He closed his eyes on the bloody scene,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And presented arms to his Maker.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There he lay, without honor or rank,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, still, in a grim-like beauty;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Despised of men for his humble race,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet true, in death, to his duty.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_BLACK_MAMMY" id="THE_BLACK_MAMMY"></a>THE BLACK MAMMY</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O whitened head entwined in turban gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O kind black face, O crude, but tender hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O foster-mother in whose arms there lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The race whose sons are masters of the land!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was thine arms that sheltered in their fold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was thine eyes that followed through the length<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of infant days these sons. In times of old<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was thy breast that nourished them to strength.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So often hast thou to thy bosom pressed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The golden head, the face and brow of snow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So often has it 'gainst thy broad, dark breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lain, set off like a quickened cameo.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou simple soul, as cuddling down that babe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With thy sweet croon, so plaintive and so wild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came ne'er the thought to thee, swift like a stab,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That it some day might crush thine own black child?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="FATHER_FATHER_ABRAHAM" id="FATHER_FATHER_ABRAHAM"></a>FATHER, FATHER ABRAHAM</h2> + +<h3>(<i>On the Anniversary of Lincoln's Birth</i>)</h3> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Father, Father Abraham,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To-day look on us from above;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On us, the offspring of thy faith,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The children of thy Christ-like love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For that which we have humbly wrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Give us to-day thy kindly smile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherein we've failed or fallen short,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bear with us, Father, yet awhile.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Father, Father Abraham,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To-day we lift our hearts to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Filled with the thought of what great price<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was paid, that we might ransomed be.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To-day we consecrate ourselves<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Anew in hand and heart and brain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To send this judgment down the years:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The ransom was not paid in vain.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BROTHERS" id="BROTHERS"></a>BROTHERS</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See! There he stands; not brave, but with an air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sullen stupor. Mark him well! Is he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not more like brute than man? Look in his eye!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No light is there; none, save the glint that shines<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the now glaring, and now shifting orbs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of some wild animal caught in the hunter's trap.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">How came this beast in human shape and form?<br /> +</span> +<span class="i0">Speak, man!—We call you man because you wear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His shape—How are you thus? Are you not from<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That docile, child-like, tender-hearted race<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which we have known three centuries? Not from<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That more than faithful race which through three wars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fed our dear wives and nursed our helpless babes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without a single breach of trust? Speak out!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">I am, and am not.<br /> +</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Then who, why are you?<br /> +</span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">I am a thing not new, I am as old<br /> +</span> +<span class="i0">As human nature. I am that which lurks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ready to spring whenever a bar is loosed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ancient trait which fights incessantly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against restraint, balks at the upward climb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The weight forever seeking to obey<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The law of downward pull;—and I am more:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bitter fruit am I of planted seed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The resultant, the inevitable end<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of evil forces and the powers of wrong.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Lessons in degradation, taught and learned,<br /> +</span> +<span class="i0">The memories of cruel sights and deeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pent-up bitterness, the unspent hate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Filtered through fifteen generations have<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sprung up and found in me sporadic life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In me the muttered curse of dying men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On me the stain of conquered women, and<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Consuming me the fearful fires of lust,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lit long ago, by other hands than mine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In me the down-crushed spirit, the hurled-back prayers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of wretches now long dead,—their dire bequests.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In me the echo of the stifled cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of children for their bartered mothers' breasts.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I claim no race, no race claims me; I am<br /> +</span> +<span class="i0">No more than human dregs; degenerate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The monstrous offspring of the monster, Sin;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span><span class="i0">I am—just what I am.... The race that fed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your wives and nursed your babes would do the same<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-day, but I—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i7">Enough, the brute must die!<br /> +</span> +<span class="i0">Quick! Chain him to that oak! It will resist<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fire much longer than this slender pine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now bring the fuel! Pile it 'round him! Wait!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pile not so fast or high! or we shall lose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The agony and terror in his face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now the torch! Good fuel that! the flames<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Already leap head-high. Ha! hear that shriek!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there's another! wilder than the first.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fetch water! Water! Pour a little on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fire, lest it should burn too fast. Hold so!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now let it slowly blaze again. See there!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He squirms! He groans! His eyes bulge wildly out,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Searching around in vain appeal for help!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another shriek, the last! Watch how the flesh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grows crisp and hangs till, turned to ash, it sifts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down through the coils of chain that hold erect<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ghastly frame against the bark-scorched tree.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Stop! to each man no more than one man's share.<br /> +</span> +<span class="i0">You take that bone, and you this tooth; the chain—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span><span class="i0">Let us divide its links; this skull, of course,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In fair division, to the leader comes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And now his fiendish crime has been avenged;<br /> +</span> +<span class="i0">Let us back to our wives and children.—Say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What did he mean by those last muttered words,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Brothers in spirit, brothers in deed are we"?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="FRAGMENT" id="FRAGMENT"></a>FRAGMENT</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The hand of Fate cannot be stayed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The course of Fate cannot be steered,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By all the gods that man has made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor all the devils he has feared,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not by the prayers that might be prayed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In all the temples he has reared.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">See! In your very midst there dwell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ten thousand thousand blacks, a wedge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forged in the furnaces of hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sharpened to a cruel edge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By wrong and by injustice fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And driven by hatred as a sledge.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A wedge so slender at the start—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just twenty slaves in shackles bound—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet, which split the land apart<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span><span class="i0">With shrieks of war and battle sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which pierced the nation's very heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still lies cankering in the wound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not all the glory of your pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Preserved in story and in song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can from the judging future hide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through all the coming ages long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That though you bravely fought and died,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You fought and died for what was wrong.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis fixed—for them that violate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eternal laws, naught shall avail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till they their error expiate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor shall their unborn children fail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pay the full required weight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into God's great, unerring scale.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Think not repentance can redeem,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sin his wages can withdraw;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No, think as well to change the scheme<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of worlds that move in reverent awe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forgiveness is an idle dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God is not love, no, God is law.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_WHITE_WITCH" id="THE_WHITE_WITCH"></a>THE WHITE WITCH</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, brothers mine, take care! Take care!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The great white witch rides out to-night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trust not your prowess nor your strength;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your only safety lies in flight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For in her glance there is a snare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in her smile there is a blight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The great white witch you have not seen?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, younger brothers mine, forsooth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like nursery children you have looked<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ancient hag and snaggled tooth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But no, not so; the witch appears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In all the glowing charms of youth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her lips are like carnations red,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her face like new-born lilies fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her eyes like ocean waters blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She moves with subtle grace and air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all about her head there floats<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The golden glory of her hair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But though she always thus appears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In form of youth and mood of mirth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unnumbered centuries are hers,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span><span class="i0">The infant planets saw her birth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The child of throbbing Life is she,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twin sister to the greedy earth.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And back behind those smiling lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And down within those laughing eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And underneath the soft caress<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of hand and voice and purring sighs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shadow of the panther lurks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spirit of the vampire lies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For I have seen the great white witch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she has led me to her lair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I have kissed her red, red lips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cruel face so white and fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around me she has twined her arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bound me with her yellow hair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I felt those red lips burn and sear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My body like a living coal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Obeyed the power of those eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the needle trembles to the pole;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And did not care although I felt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The strength go ebbing from my soul.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh! she has seen your strong young limbs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heard your laughter loud and gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in your voices she has caught<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span><span class="i0">The echo of a far-off day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When man was closer to the earth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And she has marked you for her prey.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She feels the old Antæan strength<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In you, the great dynamic beat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of primal passions, and she sees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In you the last besieged retreat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of love relentless, lusty, fierce,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love pain-ecstatic, cruel-sweet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O, brothers mine, take care! Take care!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The great white witch rides out to-night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, younger brothers mine, beware!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look not upon her beauty bright;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For in her glance there is a snare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in her smile there is a blight.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="MOTHER_NIGHT" id="MOTHER_NIGHT"></a>MOTHER NIGHT</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Eternities before the first-born day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or ere the first sun fledged his wings of flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Calm Night, the everlasting and the same,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A brooding mother over chaos lay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whirling suns shall blaze and then decay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall run their fiery courses and then claim<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The haven of the darkness whence they came;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back to Nirvanic peace shall grope their way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So when my feeble sun of life burns out,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sounded is the hour for my long sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">I shall, full weary of the feverish light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Welcome the darkness without fear or doubt,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And heavy-lidded, I shall softly creep<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Into the quiet bosom of the Night.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_YOUNG_WARRIOR" id="THE_YOUNG_WARRIOR"></a>THE YOUNG WARRIOR</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mother, shed no mournful tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But gird me on my sword;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And give no utterance to thy fears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But bless me with thy word.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lines are drawn! The fight is on!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A cause is to be won!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mother, look not so white and wan;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give Godspeed to thy son.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now let thine eyes my way pursue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where'er my footsteps fare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when they lead beyond thy view,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Send after me a prayer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But pray not to defend from harm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor danger to dispel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pray, rather, that with steadfast arm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fight the battle well.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pray, mother of mine, that I always keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart and purpose strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My sword unsullied and ready to leap<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unsheathed against the wrong.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_GLORY_OF_THE_DAY_WAS_IN_HER_FACE" id="THE_GLORY_OF_THE_DAY_WAS_IN_HER_FACE"></a>THE GLORY OF THE DAY WAS IN HER FACE</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The glory of the day was in her face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The beauty of the night was in her eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And over all her loveliness, the grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Morning blushing in the early skies.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And in her voice, the calling of the dove;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like music of a sweet, melodious part.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in her smile, the breaking light of love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the gentle virtues in her heart.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now the glorious day, the beauteous night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The birds that signal to their mates at dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my dull ears, to my tear-blinded sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are one with all the dead, since she is gone.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="SONNET" id="SONNET"></a>SONNET</h2> + +<h3>(<i>From the Spanish of Plácido</i>)</h3> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Enough of love! Let break its every hold!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ended my youthful folly! for I know<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That, like the dazzling, glister-shedding snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Celia, thou art beautiful, but cold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I do not find in thee that warmth which glows,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which, all these dreary days, my heart has sought,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That warmth without which love is lifeless, naught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More than a painted fruit, a waxen rose.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Such love as thine, scarce can it bear love's name,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Deaf to the pleading notes of his sweet lyre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A frank, impulsive heart I wish to claim,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A heart that blindly follows its desire.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wish to embrace a woman full of flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I want to kiss a woman made of fire.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="FROM_THE_SPANISH" id="FROM_THE_SPANISH"></a>FROM THE SPANISH</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Twenty years go by on noiseless feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He returns, and once again they meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She exclaims, "Good heavens! and is that he?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He mutters, "My God! and that is she!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="FROM_THE_GERMAN_OF_UHLAND" id="FROM_THE_GERMAN_OF_UHLAND"></a>FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Three students once tarried over the Rhine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And into Frau Wirthin's turned to dine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Say, hostess, have you good beer and wine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And where is that pretty daughter of thine?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My beer and wine is fresh and clear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My daughter lies on her funeral bier."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They softly tipped into the room;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She lay there in the silent gloom.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The first the white cloth gently raised,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tearfully upon her gazed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If thou wert alive, O, lovely maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart at thy feet would to-day be laid!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The second covered her face again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And turned away with grief and pain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ah, thou upon thy snow-white bier!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I have loved thee so many a year."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The third drew back again the veil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And kissed the lips so cold and pale.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I've loved thee always, I love thee to-day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And will love thee, yes, forever and aye!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BEFORE_A_PAINTING" id="BEFORE_A_PAINTING"></a>BEFORE A PAINTING</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I knew not who had wrought with skill so fine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What I beheld; nor by what laws of art<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He had created life and love and heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On canvas, from mere color, curve and line.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silent I stood and made no move or sign;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not with the crowd, but reverently apart;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor felt the power my rooted limbs to start,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But mutely gazed upon that face divine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And over me the sense of beauty fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As music over a raptured listener to<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The deep-voiced organ breathing out a hymn;<br /> +</span> +<span class="i0">Or as on one who kneels, his beads to tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There falls the aureate glory filtered through<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The windows in some old cathedral dim.<br /> +</span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="I_HEAR_THE_STARS_STILL_SINGING" id="I_HEAR_THE_STARS_STILL_SINGING"></a>I HEAR THE STARS STILL SINGING</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I hear the stars still singing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the beautiful, silent night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As they speed with noiseless winging<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their ever westward flight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hear the waves still falling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the stretch of lonely shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the sound of a sweet voice calling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall hear, alas! no more.<br /></span></div> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="GIRL_OF_FIFTEEN" id="GIRL_OF_FIFTEEN"></a>GIRL OF FIFTEEN</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Girl of fifteen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I see you each morning from my window<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As you pass on your way to school.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I do more than see, I watch you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I furtively draw the curtain aside.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my heart leaps through my eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And follows you down the street;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaving me behind, half-hid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wholly ashamed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What holds me back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half-hid behind the curtains and wholly ashamed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But my forty years beyond your fifteen?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Girl of fifteen, as you pass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There passes, too, a lightning flash of time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In which you lift those forty summers off my head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And take those forty winters out of my heart.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_SUICIDE" id="THE_SUICIDE"></a>THE SUICIDE</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For fifty years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cruel, insatiable Old World,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You have punched me over the heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till you made me cough blood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The few paltry things I gathered<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You snatched out of my hands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You have knocked the cup from my thirsty lips.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You have laughed at my hunger of body and soul.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You look at me now and think,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He is still strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There ought to be twenty more years of good punching there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the end of that time he will be old and broken,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not able to strike back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But cringing and crying for leave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To live a little longer."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Those twenty, pitiful, extra years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would please you more than the fifty past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would they not, Old World?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well, I hold them up before your greedy eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And snatch them away as I laugh in your face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ha! Ha!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bang—!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="DOWN_BY_THE_CARIB_SEA" id="DOWN_BY_THE_CARIB_SEA"></a>DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA</h2> + +<h3><a name="one" id="one"></a>I</h3> +<h3><i>Sunrise in the Tropics</i></h3> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sol, Sol, mighty lord of the tropic zone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here I wait with the trembling stars<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see thee once more take thy throne.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There the patient palm tree watching<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waits to say, "Good morn" to thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a throb of expectation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pulses through the earth and me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, o'er nature falls a hush,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look! the East is all a-blush;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a growing crimson crest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dims the late stars in the west;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, a flood of golden light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweeps across the silver night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift the pale moon fades away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the light-girt King of Day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See! the miracle is done!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once more behold! The Sun!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="two" id="two"></a>II</h3> +<h3><i>Los Cigarillos</i></h3> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This is the land of the dark-eyed <i>gente</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the <i>dolce far niente</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where we dream away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both the night and day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At night-time in sleep our dreams we invoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our dreams come by day through the redolent smoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As it lazily curls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And slowly unfurls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From our lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the tips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of our fragrant <i>cigarillos</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For life in the tropics is only a joke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So we pass it in dreams, and we pass it in smoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smoke—smoke—smoke.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tropical constitutions<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Call for occasional revolutions;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But after that's through,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why there's nothing to do<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But smoke—smoke;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For life in the tropics is only a joke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So we pass it in dreams, and we pass it in smoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smoke—smoke—smoke.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="three" id="three"></a>III</h3> +<h3><i>Teestay</i></h3> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of tropic sensations, the worst<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is, <i>sin duda</i>, the tropical thirst.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When it starts in your throat and constantly grows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till you feel that it reaches down to your toes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When your mouth tastes like fur<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And your tongue turns to dust,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's but one thing to do,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And do it you must,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drink <i>teestay</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Teestay</i>, a drink with a history,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A delicious, delectable mystery,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>Cinco centavos el vaso, señor</i>,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you take one, you will surely want more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Teestay, teestay</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The national drink on a feast day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How it coolingly tickles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As downward it trickles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Teestay, teestay</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And you wish, as you take it down at a quaff,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That your neck was constructed à la giraffe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Teestay, teestay</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="four" id="four"></a>IV</h3> +<h3><i>The Lottery Girl</i></h3> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lottery, lottery,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take a chance at the lottery?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take a ticket,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, better, take two;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who knows what the future<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May hold for you?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lottery, lottery,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take a chance at the lottery?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, limpid-eyed girl,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would take every chance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If only the prize<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were a love-flashing glance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From your fathomless eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lottery, lottery,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Try your luck at the lottery?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Consider the size<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the capital prize,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And take tickets<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the lottery.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tickets, <i>señor</i>? Tickets, <i>señor</i>?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take a chance at the lottery?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, crimson-lipped girl,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the magical smile,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span><span class="i0">I would count that the gamble<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were well worth the while,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not a chance would I miss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If only the prize<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were a honey-bee kiss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gathered in sips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From those full-ripened lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a love-flashing glance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From your eyes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<h3>V<a name="five" id="five"></a></h3> +<h3><i>The Dancing Girl</i></h3> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Do you know what it is to dance?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perhaps, you do know, in a fashion;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But by dancing I mean,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not what's generally seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But dancing of fire and passion,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of fire and delirious passion.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With a dusky-haired <i>señorita</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her dark, misty eyes near your own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And her scarlet-red mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a rose of the south,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The reddest that ever was grown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So close that you catch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her quick-panting breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As across your own face it is blown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a sigh, and a moan.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah! that is dancing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As here by the Carib it's known.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, whirling and twirling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like furies we go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, soft and caressing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sinuously slow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With an undulating motion,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like waves on a breeze-kissed ocean:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the scarlet-red mouth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is nearer your own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the dark, misty eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still softer have grown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah! that is dancing, that is loving,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As here by the Carib they're known.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> +<h3><a name="six" id="six"></a>VI</h3> +<h3><i>Sunset in the Tropics</i></h3> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A silver flash from the sinking sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then a shot of crimson across the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, bursting, lets a thousand colors fly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And riot among the clouds; they run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deepening in purple, flaming in gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Changing, and opening fold after fold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then fading through all of the tints of the rose into gray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till, taking quick fright at the coming night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They rush out down the west,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In hurried quest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the fleeing day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now above where the tardiest color flares a moment yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One point of light, now two, now three are set<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To form the starry stairs,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, in her fire-fly crown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Queen Night, on velvet slippered feet, comes softly down.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="AND_THE_GREATEST_OF_THESE_IS_WAR" id="AND_THE_GREATEST_OF_THESE_IS_WAR"></a>AND THE GREATEST OF THESE IS WAR</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Around the council-board of Hell, with Satan at their head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Three Great Scourges of humanity sat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gaunt Famine, with hollow cheek and voice, arose and spoke,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O, Prince, I have stalked the earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my victims by ten thousands I have slain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have smitten old and young.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mouths of the helpless old moaning for bread, I have filled with dust;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I have laughed to see a crying babe tug at the shriveling breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of its mother, dead and cold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have heard the cries and prayers of men go up to a tearless sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fall back upon an earth of ashes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, heedless, I have gone on with my work.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis thus, O, Prince, that I have scourged mankind."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And Satan nodded his head.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pale Pestilence, with stenchful breath, then spoke and said,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Great Prince, my brother, Famine, attacks the poor.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span><span class="i0">He is most terrible against the helpless and the old.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I have made a charnel-house of the mightiest cities of men.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I strike, neither their stores of gold or of grain avail.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a breath I lay low their strongest, and wither up their fairest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I come upon them without warning, lancing invisible death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From me they flee with eyes and mouths distended;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I poison the air for which they gasp, and I strike them down fleeing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis thus, great Prince, that I have scourged mankind."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And Satan nodded his head.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then the red monster, War, rose up and spoke,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His blood-shot eyes glared 'round him, and his thundering voice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Echoed through the murky vaults of Hell.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O, mighty Prince, my brothers, Famine and Pestilence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have slain their thousands and ten thousands,—true;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the greater their victories have been,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The more have they wakened in Man's breast<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span><span class="i0">The God-like attributes of sympathy, of brotherhood and love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And made of him a searcher after wisdom.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I arouse in Man the demon and the brute,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I plant black hatred in his heart and red revenge.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the summit of fifty thousand years of upward climb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I haul him down to the level of the start, back to the wolf.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I give him claws.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I set his teeth into his brother's throat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I make him drunk with his brother's blood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I laugh ho! ho! while he destroys himself.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, mighty Prince, not only do I slay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I draw Man hellward."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And Satan smiled, stretched out his hand, and said,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O War, of all the scourges of humanity, I crown you chief."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And Hell rang with the acclamation of the Fiends.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="A_MID-DAY_DREAMER" id="A_MID-DAY_DREAMER"></a>A MID-DAY DREAMER</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I love to sit alone, and dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dream, and dream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In fancy's boat to softly glide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Along some stream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where fairy palaces of gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And crystal bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stand all along the glistening shore:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wondrous sight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My craft is built of ivory,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With silver oars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sails are spun of golden threads,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And priceless stores<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of precious gems adorn its prow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And 'round its mast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An hundred silken cords are set<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hold it fast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My galley-slaves are sprightly elves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, as they row,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as their shining oars they swing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Them to and fro,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keep time to music wafted on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scented air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made by the mermaids as they comb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their golden hair.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And I the while lie idly back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dream, and dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let them row me where they will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adown the stream.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_TEMPTRESS" id="THE_TEMPTRESS"></a>THE TEMPTRESS</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Old Devil, when you come with horns and tail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With diabolic grin and crafty leer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I say, such bogey-man devices wholly fail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To waken in my heart a single fear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But when you wear a form I know so well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A form so human, yet so near divine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis then I fall beneath the magic of your spell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis then I know the vantage is not mine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah! when you take your horns from off your head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soft and fragrant hair is in their place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I must admit I fear the tangled path I tread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When that dear head is laid against my face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And at what time you change your baleful eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For stars that melt into the gloom of night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All of my courage, my dear fellow, quickly flies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know my chance is slim to win the fight.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when, instead of charging down to wreck<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Me on a red-hot pitchfork in your hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You throw a pair of slender arms about my neck,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I dare not trust the ground on which I stand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whene'er in place of using patent wile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or trying to frighten me with horrid grin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You tempt me with two crimson lips curved in a smile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old Devil, I must really own, you win.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="GHOSTS_OF_THE_OLD_YEAR" id="GHOSTS_OF_THE_OLD_YEAR"></a>GHOSTS OF THE OLD YEAR</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The snow has ceased its fluttering flight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind sunk to a whisper light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An ominous stillness fills the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A pause—a hush.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last, a sound that breaks the spell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loud, clanging mouthings of a bell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That through the silence peal and swell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And roll, and rush.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What does this brazen tongue declare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That falling on the midnight air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brings to my heart a sense of care<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Akin to fright?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis telling that the year is dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The New Year come, the Old Year fled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Another leaf before me spread<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On which to write.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It tells the deeds that were not done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It tells of races never run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of victories that were not won,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Barriers unleaped.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It tells of many a squandered day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of slighted gems and treasured clay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of precious stores not laid away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of fields unreaped.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And so the years go swiftly by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each, coming, brings ambitions high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And each, departing, leaves a sigh<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Linked to the past.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Large resolutions, little deeds;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus, filled with aims unreached, life speeds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until the blotted record reads,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Failure!" at last.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_GHOST_OF_DEACON_BROWN" id="THE_GHOST_OF_DEACON_BROWN"></a>THE GHOST OF DEACON BROWN</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In a backwoods town<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lived Deacon Brown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he was a miser old;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He would trust no bank,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So he dug, and sank<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the ground a box of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down deep in the ground a box of gold.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He hid his gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As has been told,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He remembered that he did it;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sad to say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the very next day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He forgot just where he hid it:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To find his gold he tried and tried<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till he grew faint and sick, and died.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then on each dark and gloomy night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A form in phosphorescent white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A genuine hair-raising sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would wander through the town.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as it slowly roamed around,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a spade it dug each foot of ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So the folks about<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said there was no doubt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas the ghost of Deacon Brown.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Around the church<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This Ghost would search,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whenever it would see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The passers-by<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take wings and fly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It would laugh in ghostly glee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hee, hee!—it would laugh in ghostly glee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And so the town<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went quickly down,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span><span class="i0">For they said that it was haunted;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And doors and gates,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So the story states,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bore a notice, "Tenants wanted."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the town is now for let,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the ghost is digging yet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LAZY" id="LAZY"></a>"LAZY"</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some men enjoy the constant strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of days with work and worry rife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But that is not my dream of life:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I think such men are crazy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For me, a life with worries few,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A job of nothing much to do,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just pelf enough to see me through:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I fear that I am lazy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On winter mornings cold and drear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When six o'clock alarms I hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis then I love to shift my ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And hug my downy pillows.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When in the shade it's ninety-three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No job in town looks good to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd rather loaf down by the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And watch the foaming billows.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some people think the world's a school,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where labor is the only rule;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I'll not make myself a mule,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And don't you ever doubt it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know that work may have its use,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But still I feel that's no excuse<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For turning it into abuse;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What do <i>you</i> think about it?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let others fume and sweat and boil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And scratch and dig for golden spoil,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And live the life of work and toil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their lives to labor giving.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But what is gold when life is sped,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And life is short, as has been said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we are such a long time dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll spend my life in living.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="OMAR" id="OMAR"></a>OMAR</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Old Omar, jolly sceptic, it may be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, after all, you found the magic key<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To life and all its mystery, and I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must own you have almost persuaded me.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="DEEP_IN_THE_QUIET_WOOD" id="DEEP_IN_THE_QUIET_WOOD"></a>DEEP IN THE QUIET WOOD</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Are you bowed down in heart?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do you but hear the clashing discords and the din of life?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then come away, come to the peaceful wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here bathe your soul in silence. Listen! Now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From out the palpitating solitude<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do you not catch, yet faint, elusive strains?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are above, around, within you, everywhere.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silently listen! Clear, and still more clear, they come.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They bubble up in rippling notes, and swell in singing tones.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now let your soul run the whole gamut of the wondrous scale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until, responsive to the tonic chord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It touches the diapason of God's grand cathedral organ,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Filling earth for you with heavenly peace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And holy harmonies.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VOLUPTAS" id="VOLUPTAS"></a>VOLUPTAS</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To chase a never-reached mirage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the hot, white sand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And choke and die, while gazing on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its green and watered strand.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_WORD_OF_AN_ENGINEER" id="THE_WORD_OF_AN_ENGINEER"></a>THE WORD OF AN ENGINEER</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"She's built of steel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From deck to keel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bolted strong and tight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In scorn she'll sail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fiercest gale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pierce the darkest night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The builder's art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has proved each part<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Throughout her breadth and length;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep in the hulk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of her mighty bulk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ten thousand Titans' strength."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The tempest howls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Ice Wolf prowls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The winds they shift and veer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But calm I sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And faith I keep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the word of an engineer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Along the trail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the slender rail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The train, like a nightmare, flies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dashes on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the black-mouthed yawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the cavernous tunnel lies.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Over the ridge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the bridge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swung twixt the sky and hell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On an iron thread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spun from the head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the man in a draughtsman's cell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And so we ride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over land and tide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without a thought of fear—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Man never had</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The faith in God</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>That he has in an engineer!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LIFE" id="LIFE"></a>LIFE</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out of the infinite sea of eternity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To climb, and for an instant stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon an island speck of time.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From the impassible peace of the darkness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wake, and blink at the garish light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through one short hour of fretfulness.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="SLEEP" id="SLEEP"></a>SLEEP</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Sleep, thou kindest minister to man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Silent distiller of the balm of rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How wonderful thy power, when naught else can,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To soothe the torn and sorrow-laden breast!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When bleeding hearts no comforter can find,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When burdened souls droop under weight of woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When thought is torture to the troubled mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When grief-relieving tears refuse to flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis then thou comest on soft-beating wings,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sweet oblivion's peace from them is shed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ah, the old pain that the waking brings!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That lives again so soon as thou art fled!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Man, why should thought of death cause thee to weep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since death be but an endless, dreamless sleep?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="PRAYER_AT_SUNRISE" id="PRAYER_AT_SUNRISE"></a>PRAYER AT SUNRISE</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O mighty, powerful, dark-dispelling sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now thou art risen, and thy day begun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How shrink the shrouding mists before thy face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As up thou spring'st to thy diurnal race!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How darkness chases darkness to the west,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As shades of light on light rise radiant from thy crest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thee, great source of strength, emblem of might,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In hours of darkest gloom there is no night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou shinest on though clouds hide thee from sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through each break thou sendest down thy light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O greater Maker of this Thy great sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me the strength this one day's race to run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fill me with light, fill me with sun-like strength,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fill me with joy to rob the day its length.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light from within, light that will outward shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strength to make strong some weaker heart than mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joy to make glad each soul that feels its touch;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great Father of the sun, I ask this much.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_GIFT_TO_SING" id="THE_GIFT_TO_SING"></a>THE GIFT TO SING</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sometimes the mist overhangs my path,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blackening clouds about me cling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, oh, I have a magic way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To turn the gloom to cheerful day—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I softly sing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And if the way grows darker still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shadowed by Sorrow's somber wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With glad defiance in my throat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I pierce the darkness with a note,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sing, and sing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I brood not over the broken past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor dread whatever time may bring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No nights are dark, no days are long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While in my heart there swells a song,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I can sing.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="MORNING_NOON_AND_NIGHT" id="MORNING_NOON_AND_NIGHT"></a>MORNING, NOON AND NIGHT</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When morning shows her first faint flush,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I think of the tender blush<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That crept so gently to your cheek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When first my love I dared to speak;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How, in your glance, a dawning ray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gave promise of love's perfect day.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When, in the ardent breath of noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The roses with passion swoon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There steals upon me from the air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scent that lurked within your hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I touch your hand, I clasp your form—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again your lips are close and warm.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When comes the night with beauteous skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I think of your tear-dimmed eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their mute entreaty that I stay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Although your lips sent me away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then falls memory's bitter blight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dark—so dark becomes the night.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="HER_EYES_TWIN_POOLS" id="HER_EYES_TWIN_POOLS"></a>HER EYES TWIN POOLS</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her eyes, twin pools of mystic light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blend of star-sheen and black night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er which, to sound their glamouring haze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A man might bend, and vainly gaze.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her eyes, twin pools so dark and deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In which life's ancient mysteries sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherein, to seek the quested goal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A man might plunge, and lose his soul.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_AWAKENING" id="THE_AWAKENING"></a>THE AWAKENING</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I dreamed that I was a rose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That grew beside a lonely way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Close by a path none ever chose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there I lingered day by day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the sunshine and the show'r<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I grew and waited there apart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gathering perfume hour by hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And storing it within my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yet, never knew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just why I waited there and grew.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I dreamed that you were a bee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That one day gaily flew along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You came across the hedge to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sang a soft, love-burdened song.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You brushed my petals with a kiss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I woke to gladness with a start,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yielded up to you in bliss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The treasured fragrance of my heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And then I knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I had waited there for you.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BEAUTY_THAT_IS_NEVER_OLD" id="BEAUTY_THAT_IS_NEVER_OLD"></a>BEAUTY THAT IS NEVER OLD</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When buffeted and beaten by life's storms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When by the bitter cares of life oppressed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want no surer haven than your arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want no sweeter heaven than your breast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When over my life's way there falls the blight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sunless days, and nights of starless skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enough for me, the calm and steadfast light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That softly shines within your loving eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The world, for me, and all the world can hold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is circled by your arms; for me there lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within the lights and shadows of your eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The only beauty that is never old.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="VENUS_IN_A_GARDEN" id="VENUS_IN_A_GARDEN"></a>VENUS IN A GARDEN</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas at early morning,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dawn was blushing in her purple bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When in a sweet, embowered garden<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She, the fairest of the goddesses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lovely Venus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roamed amongst the roses white and red.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sought for flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make a garland<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For her golden head.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Snow-white roses, blood-red roses,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that sweet garden close,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Offered incense to the goddess:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both the white and the crimson rose.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">White roses, red roses, blossoming:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the fair Venus knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crimson roses had gained their hue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the hearts that for love had bled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the goddess made a garland<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gathered from the roses red.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="VASHTI" id="VASHTI"></a>VASHTI</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I sometimes take you in my dreams to a far-off land I used to know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back in the ages long ago; a land of palms and languid streams.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A land, by night, of jeweled skies, by day, of shores that glistened bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within whose arms, outstretched and white, a sapphire sea lay crescent-wise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where twilight fell like silver floss, where rose the golden moon half-hid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind a shadowy pyramid; a land beneath the Southern Cross.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And there the days dreamed in their flight, each one a poem chanted through,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which at its close was merged into the muted music of the night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And you were a princess in those days. And I—I was your serving lad.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But who ever served with heart so glad, or lived so for a word of praise?<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And if that word you chanced to speak, how all my senses swayed and reeled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till low beside your feet I kneeled, with happiness o'erwrought and weak.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If, when your golden cup I bore, you deigned to lower your eyes to mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eyes cold, yet fervid, like the wine, I knew not how to wish for more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I trembled at the thought to dare to gaze upon, to scrutinize<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The deep-sea mystery of your eyes, the sun-lit splendor of your hair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To let my timid glances rest upon you long enough to note<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How fair and slender was your throat, how white the promise of your breast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But though I did not dare to chance a lingering look, an open gaze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon your beauty's blinding rays, I ventured many a stolen glance.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I fancy, too, (but could not state what trick of mind the fancy caused)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At times your eyes upon me paused, and marked my figure lithe and straight.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Once when my eyes met yours it seemed that in your cheek, despite your pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A flush arose and swiftly died; or was it something that I dreamed?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Within your radiance like the star of morning, there I stood and served,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Close by, unheeded, unobserved. You were so near, and, yet, so far.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah! just to stretch my hand and touch the musky sandals on your feet!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My breaking heart! of rapture sweet it never could have held so much.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, beauty-haunted memory! Your face so proud, your eyes so calm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your body like a slim young palm, and sinuous as a willow tree.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Caught up beneath your slender arms, and girdled 'round your supple waist,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A robe of curious silk that graced, but only scarce concealed your charms.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A golden band about your head, a crimson jewel at your throat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which, when the sunlight on it smote, turned to a living heart and bled.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But, oh, that mystic bleeding stone, that work of Nature's magic art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which mimicked so a wounded heart, could never bleed as did my own!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now after ages long and sad, in this stern land we meet anew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more a princess proud are you, and I—I am no serving lad.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And yet, dividing us, I meet a wider gulf than that which stood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between a princess of the blood and him who served low at her feet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_REWARD" id="THE_REWARD"></a>THE REWARD</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No greater earthly boon than this I crave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That those who some day gather 'round my grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In place of tears, may whisper of me then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"He sang a song that reached the hearts of men."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h2><a name="JINGLES_CROONS" id="JINGLES_CROONS"></a>JINGLES & CROONS </h2> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="SENCE" id="SENCE"></a>SENCE YOU WENT AWAY</h2> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Seems lak to me de stars don't shine so bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seems lak to me de sun done loss his light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seems lak to me der's nothin' goin' right,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sence you went away.<br /> +</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Seems lak to me de sky ain't half so blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seems lak to me dat ev'ything wants you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seems lak to me I don't know what to do,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sence you went away.<br /> +</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Seems lak to me dat ev'ything is wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seems lak to me de day's jes twice as long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seems lak to me de bird's forgot his song,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sence you went away.<br /> +</span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Seems lak to me I jes can't he'p but sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seems lak to me ma th'oat keeps gittin' dry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seems lak to me a tear stays in ma eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sence you went away.<br /> +</span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="MA_LADYS_LIPS_AM_LIKE_DE_HONEY" id="MA_LADYS_LIPS_AM_LIKE_DE_HONEY"></a>MA LADY'S LIPS AM LIKE DE HONEY</h2> + +<h3>(<i>Negro Love Song</i>)</h3> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Breeze a-sighin' and a-blowin',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Southern summer night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stars a-gleamin' and a-glowin',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moon jes shinin' right.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strollin', like all lovers do,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down de lane wid Lindy Lou;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Honey on her lips to waste;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Speck I'm gwine to steal a taste.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Oh, ma lady's lips am like de honey,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ma lady's lips am like de rose;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' I'm jes like de little bee a-buzzin'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Round de flower wha' de nectah grows.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ma lady's lips dey smile so temptin',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ma lady's teeth so white dey shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oh, ma lady's lips so tantalizin',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ma lady's lips so close to mine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bird a-whistlin' and a-swayin'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In de live-oak tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seems to me he keeps a-sayin',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Kiss dat gal fo' me."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look heah, Mister Mockin' Bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gwine to take you at yo' word;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I meets ma Waterloo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gwine to blame it all on you.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Oh, ma lady's lips am like de honey,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ma lady's lips am like de rose;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' I'm jes like de little bee a-buzzin'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Round de flower wha' de nectah grows.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ma lady's lips dey smile so temptin',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ma lady's teeth so white dey shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oh, ma lady's lips so tantalizin',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ma lady's lips so close to mine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Honey in de rose, I spose, is<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Put der fo' de bee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Honey on her lips, I knows, is<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Put der jes fo' me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seen a sparkle in her eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heard her heave a little sigh;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Felt her kinder squeeze ma han',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Nuff to make me understan'.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="TUNK" id="TUNK"></a>TUNK</h2> + +<h3>(<i>A Lecture on Modern Education</i>)</h3> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Look heah, Tunk!—Now, ain't dis awful! T'ought I sont you off to school.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Don't you know dat you is growin' up to be a reg'lah fool?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whah's dem books dat I's done bought you? Look heah, boy, you tell me quick,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whah's dat Webster blue-back spellah an' dat bran' new 'rifmatic?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">W'ile I'm t'inkin' you is lahnin' in de school, why bless ma soul!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You off in de woods a-playin'. Can't you do like you is tole?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Boy, I tell you, it's jes scan'lous d'way dat you is goin' on.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' you sholy go'n be sorry, jes as true as you is bo'n.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heah I'm tryin' hard to raise you as a credit to dis race,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' you tryin' heap much harder fu' to come up in disgrace.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dese de days w'en men don't git up to de top by hooks an' crooks;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell you now, dey's got to git der standin' on a pile o' books.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">W'en you sees a darkey goin' to de fiel' as soon as light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Followin' a mule across it f'om de mawnin' tel de night,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wukin' all his life fu' vittles, hoein' 'tween de cott'n rows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W'en he knocks off ole an' tiah'd, ownin' nut'n but his clo'es,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You kin put it down to ignunce, aftah all what's done an' said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You kin bet dat dat same darkey ain't got nut'n in his head.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ain't you seed dem w'ite men set'n in der awfice? Don't you know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dey goes der 'bout nine each mawnin? Bless yo' soul, dey's out by fo'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dey jes does a little writin'; does dat by some easy means;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gals jes set an' play piannah on dem printin' press muchines.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Chile, dem men knows how to figgah, how to use dat little pen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' dey knows dat blue-back spellah f'om beginnin' to de en'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dat's de 'fect of education; dat's de t'ing what's gwine to rule;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Git dem books, you lazy rascal! Git back to yo' place in school!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="NOBODYS_LOOKIN_BUT_DE_OWL_AND_DE_MOON" id="NOBODYS_LOOKIN_BUT_DE_OWL_AND_DE_MOON"></a>NOBODY'S LOOKIN' BUT DE OWL AND DE MOON</h2> + +<h3>(<i>A Negro Serenade</i>)</h3> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">De river is a-glistenin' in de moonlight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">De owl is set'n high up in de tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">De little stars am twinklin' wid a sof' light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">De night seems only jes fu' you an' me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thoo de trees de breezes am a-sighin',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breathin' out a sort o' lover's croon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Der's nobody lookin' or a-spyin',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nobody but de owl an' de moon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nobody's lookin' but de owl an' de moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' de night is balmy; fu' de month is June;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come den, Honey, won't you? Come to meet me soon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wile nobody's lookin' but de owl an' de moon.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I feel so kinder lonely all de daytime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It seems I raly don't know what to do;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I jes keep sort a-longin' fu' de night-time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Cause den I know dat I can be wid you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' de thought jes sets my brain a-swayin',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' my heart a-beatin' to a tune;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, de owl won't tell w'at we's a-sayin',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' cose you know we kin trus' de moon.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="YOUS_SWEET_TO_YO_MAMMY_JES_DE_SAME" id="YOUS_SWEET_TO_YO_MAMMY_JES_DE_SAME"></a>YOU'S SWEET TO YO' MAMMY JES DE SAME</h2> + +<h3>(<i>Lullaby</i>)</h3> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Shet yo' eyes, ma little pickaninny, go to sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mammy's watchin' by you all de w'ile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Daddy is a-wukin' down in de cott'n fiel',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wukin' fu' his little honey child.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' yo' mammy's heart is jes a-brimmin' full o' lub<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fu' you f'om yo' head down to yo' feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, no mattah w'at some othah folks may t'ink o' you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To yo' mammy's heart you's mighty sweet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You's sweet to yo' mammy jes de same;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dat's why she calls you Honey fu' yo' name.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yo' face is black, dat's true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' yo' hair is woolly, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, you's sweet to yo' mammy jes de same.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Up der in de big house w'ere dey lib so rich an' gran'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dey's got chillen dat dey lubs, I s'pose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Chillen dat is purty, oh, but dey can't lub dem mo'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dan yo' mammy lubs you, heaben knows!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dey may t'ink you's homely, an' yo' clo'es dey may be po',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But yo' shinin' eyes, dey hol's a light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dat, my Honey, w'en you opens dem so big an' roun',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Makes you lubly in yo' mammy's sight.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_PLANTATION_BACCHANAL" id="A_PLANTATION_BACCHANAL"></a>A PLANTATION BACCHANAL</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">W'en ole Mister Sun gits tiah'd a-hangin'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High up in de sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W'en der ain't no thunder and light'nin' a-bangin',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' de crap's done all laid by;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W'en yo' bones ain't achin' wid de rheumatics,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Den yo' ride de mule to town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Git a great big jug o' de ole corn juice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' w'en you drink her down—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">Jes lay away ole Trouble,<br /> +</span> +<span class="i3">An' dry up all yo' tears;<br /> +</span> +<span class="i3">Yo' pleasure sho' to double<br /> +</span> +<span class="i3">An' you bound to lose yo' keers.<br /> +</span> +<span class="i3">Jes lay away ole Sorrer<br /> +</span> +<span class="i3">High upon de shelf;<br /> +</span> +<span class="i3">And never mind to-morrer,<br /> +</span> +<span class="i3">'Twill take care of itself.<br /> +</span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">W'en ole Mister Age begins a-stealin'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thoo yo' back an' knees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W'en yo' bones an' jints lose der limber feelin',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' am stiff'nin' by degrees;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now der's jes one way to feel young and spry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W'en you heah dem banjos soun'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Git a great big swig o' de ole corn juice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' w'en you drink her down—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">Jes lay away ole Trouble,<br /> +</span> +<span class="i3">An' dry up all yo' tears;<br /> +</span> +<span class="i3">Yo' pleasure sho' to double<br /> +</span> +<span class="i3">An' you bound to lose yo' keers.<br /> +</span> +<span class="i3">Jes lay away ole Sorrer<br /> +</span> +<span class="i3">High upon de shelf;<br /> +</span> +<span class="i3">And never mind to-morrer,<br /> +</span> +<span class="i3">'Twill take care of itself.<br /> +</span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="JULY_IN_GEORGY" id="JULY_IN_GEORGY"></a>JULY IN GEORGY</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'm back down in ole Georgy w'ere de sun is shinin' hot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W'ere de cawn it is a-tasslin', gittin' ready fu' de pot;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">W'ere de cott'n is a-openin' an' a-w'itenin' in de sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' de ripenin' o' de sugah-cane is mighty nigh begun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An' de locus' is a-singin' f'om eveh bush an' tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' you kin heah de hummin' o' de noisy bumblebee;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An' de mule he stan's a-dreamin' an' a-dreamin' in de lot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' de sun it is a-shinin' mighty hot, hot, hot.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But evehbody is a-restin', fu' de craps is all laid by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' time fu' de camp-meetin' is a-drawin' purty nigh;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An' we's put away de ploughshare, an' we's done hung up de spade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' we's eatin' watermelon, an' a-layin' in de shade.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="A_BANJO_SONG" id="A_BANJO_SONG"></a>A BANJO SONG</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">W'en de banjos wuz a-ringin',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' de darkies wuz a-singin',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, wuzen dem de good times sho!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All de ole folks would be chattin',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' de pickaninnies pattin',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As dey heah'd de feet a-shufflin' 'cross de flo'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An' how we'd dance, an' how we'd sing!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dance tel de day done break.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' how dem banjos dey would ring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' de cabin flo' would shake!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come along, come along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come along, come along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Don't you heah dem banjos a-ringin'?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gib a song, gib a song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gib a song, gib a song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Git yo' feet fixed up fu' a-wingin'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">W'ile de banjos dey go plunka, plunka, plunk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll dance tel de ole flo' shake;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W'ile de feet keep a-goin' chooka, chooka, chook,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll dance tel de day done break.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="ANSWER_TO_PRAYER" id="ANSWER_TO_PRAYER"></a>ANSWER TO PRAYER</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Der ain't no use in sayin' de Lawd won't answer prah;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you knows how to ax Him, I knows He's bound to heah.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">De trouble is, some people don't ax de proper way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Den w'en dey git's no answer dey doubts de use to pray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You got to use egzac'ly de 'spressions an' de words<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To show dat 'tween yo' faith an' works, you 'pends on works two-thirds.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, one time I remember—jes how long I won't say—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I thought I'd like a turkey to eat on Chris'mus day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fu' weeks I dreamed 'bout turkeys, a-struttin' in der pride;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But seed no way to get one—widout de Lawd pervide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An' so I went to prayin', I pray'd wid all my might;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span><span class="i0">"Lawd, sen' <i>to</i> me a turkey." I pray'd bofe day an' night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lawd, sen' <i>to</i> me a turkey, a big one if you please."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I 'clar to heaben I pray'd so much I mos' wore out ma knees.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I pray'd dat prah so often, I pray'd dat prah so long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet didn't git no turkey, I know'd 'twas sump'n wrong.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So on de night 'fore Chris'mus w'en I got down to pray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Lawd, sen' <i>me</i> to a turkey," I had de sense to say.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lawd, sen' <i>me</i> to a turkey." I know dat prah was right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' it was sholy answer'd; I got de bird dat night.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="DAT_GAL_O_MINE" id="DAT_GAL_O_MINE"></a>DAT GAL O' MINE</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Skin as black an' jes as sof' as a velvet dress,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Teeth as white as ivory—well dey is I guess.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Eyes dat's jes as big an' bright as de evenin' star;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' dat hol' some sort o' light lublier by far.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hair don't hang 'way down her back; plaited up in rows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wid de two en's dat's behin' tied wid ribben bows.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Han's dat raly wuz'n made fu' hard work, I'm sho';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Got a little bit o' foot; weahs a numbah fo'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You jes oughtah see dat gal Sunday's w'en she goes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To de Baptis' meetin' house, dressed in her bes' clo'es.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">W'en she puts her w'ite dress on an' othah things so fine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, Su', don't you know I'm proud o' dat gal o' mine.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_SEASONS" id="THE_SEASONS"></a>THE SEASONS</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">W'en de leaves begin to fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' de fros' is on de ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' de 'simmons is a-ripenin' on de tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W'en I heah de dinner call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' de chillen gadder 'round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis den de 'possum is de meat fu' me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">W'en de wintertime am pas'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' de spring is come at las',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W'en de good ole summer sun begins to shine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! my thoughts den tek a turn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' my heart begins to yearn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fo' dat watermelon growin' on de vine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, de yeah will sholy bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Round a season fu' us all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'y one kin pick his season f'om de res';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But de melon in de spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' de 'possum in de fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mek it hard to tell which time o' year am bes'.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="POSSUM_SONG" id="POSSUM_SONG"></a>'POSSUM SONG</h2> + +<h3>(<i>A Warning</i>)</h3> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Simmons ripenin' in de fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You better run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brudder 'Possum, run!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mockin' bird commence to call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Run some whar an' hide!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ole moon am sinkin'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down behin' de tree.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ole Eph am thinkin'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' chuckelin' wid glee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ole Tige am blinkin'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' frisky as kin be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yo' chances, Brudder 'Possum,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look mighty slim to me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Run, run, run, I tell you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Run, Brudder 'Possum, run!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Run, run, run, I tell you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ole Eph's got a gun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pickaninnies grinnin'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waitin' fu' to see de fun.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span><span class="i0">You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Run, Brudder 'Possum, run!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Brudder 'Possum take a tip;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You better run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brudder 'Possum, run!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tain't no use in actin' flip,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Run some whar an' hide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dey's gwine to houn' you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All along de line,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W'en dey done foun' you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Den what's de use in sighin'?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wid taters roun' you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You sholy would tase fine—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So listen, Brudder 'Possum,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You better be a-flyin'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Run, run, run, I tell you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Run, Brudder 'Possum, run!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Run, run, run, I tell you,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ole Eph's got a gun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pickaninnies grinnin'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waitin' fu' to see de fun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Run, Brudder 'Possum, run!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BRER_RABBIT_YOUS_DE_CUTES_OF_EM_ALL" id="BRER_RABBIT_YOUS_DE_CUTES_OF_EM_ALL"></a>BRER RABBIT, YOU'S DE CUTES' OF 'EM ALL</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Once der was a meetin' in de wilderness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All de critters of creation dey was dar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brer Rabbit, Brer 'Possum, Brer Wolf, Brer Fox,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">King Lion, Mister Terrapin, Mister B'ar.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">De question fu' discussion was, "Who is de bigges' man?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dey 'pinted ole Jedge Owl to decide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He polished up his spectacles an' put 'em on his nose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' to the question slowly he replied:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Brer Wolf am mighty cunnin',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brer Fox am mighty sly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brer Terrapin an' 'Possum—kinder small;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brer Lion's mighty vicious,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brer B'ar he's sorter 'spicious,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brer Rabbit, you's de cutes' of 'em all."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dis caused a great confusion 'mongst de animals,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ev'y critter claimed dat he had won de prize;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dey 'sputed an' dey arg'ed, dey growled an' dey roared,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Den putty soon de dus' begin to rise.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Brer Rabbit he jes' stood aside an' urged 'em on to fight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brer Lion he mos' tore Brer B'ar in two;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W'en dey was all so tiahd dat dey couldn't catch der bref<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brer Rabbit he jes' grabbed de prize an' flew.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Brer Wolf am mighty cunnin',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brer Fox am mighty sly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brer Terrapin an' Possum—kinder small;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brer Lion's mighty vicious,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brer B'ar he's sorter 'spicious,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brer Rabbit, you's de cutes' of 'em all.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="AN_EXPLANATION" id="AN_EXPLANATION"></a>AN EXPLANATION</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Look heah! 'Splain to me de reason<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why you said to Squire Lee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Der wuz twelve ole chicken thieves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In dis heah town, includin' me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ef he tole you dat, my brudder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said sump'n dat warn't true;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W'at I said wuz dis, dat der wuz<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twelve, <i>widout</i> includin' you.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh!...!—<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="DE_LITTLE_PICKANINNYS_GONE_TO_SLEEP" id="DE_LITTLE_PICKANINNYS_GONE_TO_SLEEP"></a>DE LITTLE PICKANINNY'S GONE TO SLEEP</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cuddle down, ma honey, in yo' bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go to sleep an' res' yo' little head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Been a-kind o' ailin' all de day?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Didn't have no sperit fu' to play?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never min'; to-morrer, w'en you wek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Daddy's gwine to ride you on his bek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Roun' an' roun' de cabin flo' so fas'—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Der! He's closed his little eyes at las'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">De little pickaninny's gone to sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cuddled in his trundle bed so tiny,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">De little pickaninny's gone to sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Closed his little eyes so bright an' shiny.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hush! an' w'en you walk across de flo'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Step across it very sof' an' slow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">De shadders all aroun' begin to creep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">De little pickaninny's gone to sleep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mandy, w'at's de matter wid dat chile?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keeps a-sighin' ev'y little w'ile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seems to me I heayhd him sorter groan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord! his little han's am col' as stone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W'at's dat far-off light dat's in his eyes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dat's a light dey's borrow'd f'om de skies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fol' his little han's across his breas',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let de little pickaninny res'.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_RIVALS" id="THE_RIVALS"></a>THE RIVALS</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Look heah! Is I evah tole you 'bout de curious way I won<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Anna Liza? Say, I nevah? Well heah's how de thing wuz done.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lize, you know, wuz mighty purty—dat's been forty yeahs ago—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'N 'cos to look at her dis minit, you might'n spose dat it wuz so.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She wuz jes de greates' 'traction in de county, 'n bless de lam'!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eveh darkey wuz a-co'tin, but it lay 'twix me an' Sam.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You know Sam. We both wuz wukin' on de ole John Tompkin's place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'N evehbody wuz a-watchin' t'see who's gwine to win de race.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hee! hee! hee! Now you mus' raley 'scuse me fu' dis snickering,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I jes can't he'p f'om laffin' eveh time I tells dis thing.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ez I wuz a-sayin', me an' Sam wuked daily side by side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He a-studyin', me a-studyin', how to win Lize fu' a bride.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well, de race was kinder equal, Lize wuz sorter on de fence;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sam he had de mostes dollars, an' I had de mostes sense.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Things dey run along 'bout eben tel der come Big Meetin' day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sam den thought, to win Miss Liza, he had foun' de shoest way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An' you talk about big meetin's! None been like it 'fore nor sence;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Der wuz sich a crowd o' people dat we had to put up tents.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Der wuz preachers f'om de Eas', an' 'der wuz preachers f'om de Wes';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Folks had kilt mos' eveh chicken, an' wuz fattenin' up de res'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gals had all got new w'ite dresses, an' bought ribbens fu' der hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fixin' fu' de openin' Sunday, prayin' dat de day'd be fair.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dat de Reveren' Jasper Jones of Mount Moriah, it wuz 'low'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wuz to preach de openin' sermon; so you know der wuz a crowd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fu' dat man wuz sho a preacher; had a voice jes like a bull;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So der ain't no use in sayin' dat de meetin' house wuz full.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Folks wuz der f'om Big Pine Hollow, some come 'way f'om Muddy Creek,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some come jes to stay fu' Sunday, but de crowd stay'd thoo de week.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some come ridin' in top-buggies wid de w'eels all painted red,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pulled by mules dat run like rabbits, each one tryin' to git ahead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Othah po'rer folks come drivin' mules dat leaned up 'ginst de shaf',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hitched to broke-down, creaky wagons dat looked like dey'd drap in half.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But de bigges' crowd come walkin', wid der new shoes on der backs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Scuse wuz dat dey couldn't weah em 'cause de heels wuz full o' tacks.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fact is, it's a job for Job, a-trudgin' in de sun an' heat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down a long an' dusty clay road wid yo' shoes packed full o' feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Cose dey stopt an' put dem shoes on w'en dey got mos' to de do';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Den dey had to grin an' bear it; dat tuk good religion sho.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But I mos' forgot ma story,—well at las' dat Sunday came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And it seemed dat evehbody, blin' an' deef, an' halt an' lame,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wuz out in de grove a-waitin' fu' de meetin' to begin;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ef dat crowd had got converted 'twould a been de end o' sin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lize wuz der in all her glory, purty ez a big sunflowah,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I kin 'member how she looked jes same ez 'twuz dis ve'y houah.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But to make ma story shorter, w'ile we wuz a-waitin' der,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down de road we spied a cloud o' dus' dat filled up all de air.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An' ez we kep' on a-lookin', out f'om 'mongst dat ve'y cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sam, on Marse John's big mule, Cæsar, rode right slam up in de crowd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You jes oughtah seed dat darkey, 'clar I like tah loss ma bref;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fu' to use a common 'spression, he wuz 'bout nigh dressed to def.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He had slipped to town dat Sat'day, didn't let nobody know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' had car'yd all his cash an' lef it in de dry goods sto'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He had on a bran' new suit o' sto'-bought clo'es, a high plug hat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He looked 'zactly like a gen'man, tain't no use d'nyin' dat.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">W'en he got down off dat mule an' bowed to Liza I could see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How she looked at him so 'dmirin', an' jes kinder glanced at me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Den I know'd to win dat gal, I sho would need some othah means<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Sides a-hangin' 'round big meetin' in a suit o' homespun jeans.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">W'en dey blow'd de ho'n fu' preachin', an' de crowd all went inside,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I jes felt ez doh I'd like tah go off in de woods an' hide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So I stay'd outside de meetin', set'n underneat' de trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seemed to me I sot der ages, wid ma elbows on ma knees.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">W'en dey sung dat hymn, "Nobody knows de trouble dat I see,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seem'd to me dat dey wuz singin' eveh word o' it fu' me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Jes how long I might ha' sot der, actin' like a cussed fool,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I don't know, but it jes happen'd dat I look'd an' saw Sam's mule.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An' de thought come slowly tricklin' thoo ma brain right der an' den,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dat, perhaps, wid some persuasion, I could make dat mule ma fren'.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An' I jes kep' on a-thinkin', an' I kep' a-lookin' 'roun',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tel I spied two great big san' spurs right close by me on de groun'.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well, I took dem spurs an' put em underneat' o' Cæsar's saddle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So dey'd press down in his backbone soon ez Sam had got a-straddle.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twuz a pretty ticklish job, an' jes ez soon ez it wuz done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I went back w'ere I wuz set'n fu' to wait an' see de fun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Purty soon heah come de people, jes a-swa'min' out de do',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Talkin' 'bout de "pow'ful sermon"—"nevah heah'd de likes befo'."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How de "monahs fell convicted" jes de same ez lumps o' lead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How dat some wuz still a-layin' same es if dey'd been struck dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An' to rectly heah come Liza, Sam a-strollin' by her side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' it seem'd to me dat darky's smile wuz 'bout twelve inches wide.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Look to me like he had swelled up to 'bout twice his natchul size,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' I heah'd him say, "I'd like to be yo' 'scort to-night, Miss Lize."<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Den he made a bow jes like he's gwine to make a speech in school,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' walk'd jes ez proud ez Marse John over to untie his mule,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">W'en Sam's foot fust touched de stirrup he know'd der wuz sump'n wrong;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Cuz de mule begin to tremble an' to sorter side along.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wen Sam raised his weight to mount him, Cæsar bristled up his ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W'en Sam sot down in de saddle, den dat mule cummenced to rear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An' he reared an' pitched an' caper'd, only ez a mule kin pitch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tel he flung Sam clean f'om off him, landed him squar' in a ditch.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wen dat darky riz, well raly, I felt kinder bad fu' him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had bust dem cheap sto' britches f'om de center to de rim.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All de plug hat dat wuz lef' him wuz de brim aroun' his neck,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smear'd wid mud f'om top to bottom, well, he wuz a sight, I 'speck.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wuz de folks a-laffin'? Well, su', I jes sholy thought dey'd bus';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wuz Sam laffin'? 'Twuz de fus' time dat I evah heah'd him cuss.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">W'ile Sam slink'd off thoo de backwoods I walk'd slowly home wid Lize,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W'en I axed her jes one question der wuz sump'n in her eyes<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Made me know der wuz no need o' any answer bein' said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' I felt jes like de whole world wuz a-spinnin' 'roun' ma head.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So I said, "Lize, w'en we marry, mus' I weah some sto'-bought clo'es?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She says, "Jeans is good enough fu' any po' folks, heaben knows!"<br /></span> +</div></div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>If homely virtues draw from me a tune</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>In happy jingle or a half-sad croon;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Or if the smoldering future should inspire</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>My hand to strike the seer's prophetic lyre;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Or if injustice, brutishness and wrong</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Should make a blasting trumpet of my song;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>O God, give beauty and strength—truth to my words,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Oh, may they fall like sweetly cadenced chords,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Or burn like beacon fires from out the dark,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Or speed like arrows, swift and sure, to the mark.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Fifty years & Other Poems, by James Weldon Johnson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTY YEARS & OTHER POEMS *** + +***** This file should be named 17884-h.htm or 17884-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/8/8/17884/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/17884-h/images/image_1.jpg b/17884-h/images/image_1.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..99a3d0a --- /dev/null +++ b/17884-h/images/image_1.jpg diff --git a/17884.txt b/17884.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d89cd6e --- /dev/null +++ b/17884.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3015 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Fifty years & Other Poems, by James Weldon Johnson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Fifty years & Other Poems + +Author: James Weldon Johnson + +Commentator: Brander Matthews + +Release Date: March 1, 2006 [EBook #17884] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTY YEARS & OTHER POEMS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + FIFTY YEARS & OTHER POEMS + + + BY + + JAMES WELDON JOHNSON + + AUTHOR OF + + "THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN EX-COLORED MAN," ETC. + + + + _With an Introduction by_ + + BRANDER MATTHEWS + + + + + THE CORNHILL COMPANY + BOSTON + 1917 + + + + +To + +G. N. F. + + + + +ACKNOWLEDGMENT + + +For permission to reprint certain poems in this book thanks are due to +the editors and proprietors of the _Century Magazine_, the +_Independent_, _The Crisis_, _The New York Times_, and the following +copyright holders, G. Ricordi and Company, G. Schirmer and Company, +and Joseph W. Stern and Company. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +Fifty Years + +To America + +O Black and Unknown Bards + +O Southland + +To Horace Bumstead + +The Color Sergeant + +The Black Mammy + +Father, Father Abraham + +Brothers + +Fragment + +The White Witch + +Mother Night + +The Young Warrior + +The Glory of the Day Was in Her Face + +From the Spanish of Placido + +From the Spanish + +From the German of Uhland + +Before a Painting + +I Hear the Stars Still Singing + +Girl of Fifteen + +The Suicide + +Down by the Carib Sea + I. Sunrise in the Tropics + II. Los Cigarillos +III. Teestay + IV. The Lottery Girl + V. The Dancing Girl + VI. Sunset in the Tropics + +The Greatest of These Is War + +A Mid-Day Dreamer + +The Temptress + +Ghosts of the Old Year + +The Ghost of Deacon Brown + +Lazy + +Omar + +Deep in the Quiet Wood + +Voluptas + +The Word of an Engineer + +Life + +Sleep + +Prayer at Sunrise + +The Gift to Sing + +Morning, Noon and Night + +Her Eyes Twin Pools + +The Awakening + +Beauty That Is Never Old + +Venus in a Garden + +Vashti + +The Reward + + +JINGLES & CROONS + + +Sence You Went Away + +Ma Lady's Lips Am Like de Honey + +Tunk + +Nobody's Lookin' but de Owl an' de Moon + +You's Sweet to Yo' Mammy Jes de Same + +A Plantation Bacchanal + +July in Georgy + +A Banjo Song + +Answer to Prayer + +Dat Gal o' Mine + +The Seasons + +'Possum Song + +Brer Rabbit, You'se de Cutes' of 'Em All + +An Explanation + +De Little Pickaninny's Gone to Sleep + +The Rivals + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +Of the hundred millions who make up the population of the United +States ten millions come from a stock ethnically alien to the other +ninety millions. They are not descended from ancestors who came here +voluntarily, in the spirit of adventure to better themselves or in the +spirit of devotion to make sure of freedom to worship God in their own +way. They are the grandchildren of men and women brought here against +their wills to serve as slaves. It is only half-a-century since they +received their freedom and since they were at last permitted to own +themselves. They are now American citizens, with the rights and the +duties of other American citizens; and they know no language, no +literature and no law other than those of their fellow citizens of +Anglo-Saxon ancestry. + +When we take stock of ourselves these ten millions cannot be left out +of account. Yet they are not as we are; they stand apart, more or +less; they have their own distinct characteristics. It behooves us to +understand them as best we can and to discover what manner of people +they are. And we are justified in inquiring how far they have revealed +themselves, their racial characteristics, their abiding traits, their +longing aspirations,--how far have they disclosed these in one or +another of the several arts. They have had their poets, their +painters, their composers, and yet most of these have ignored their +racial opportunity and have worked in imitation and in emulation of +their white predecessors and contemporaries, content to handle again +the traditional themes. The most important and the most significant +contributions they have made to art are in music,--first in the +plaintive beauty of the so-called "Negro spirituals"--and, secondly, +in the syncopated melody of so-called "ragtime" which has now taken +the whole world captive. + +In poetry, especially in the lyric, wherein the soul is free to find +full expression for its innermost emotions, their attempts have been, +for the most part, divisible into two classes. In the first of these may +be grouped the verses in which the lyrist put forth sentiments common to +all mankind and in no wise specifically those of his own race; and from +the days of Phyllis Wheatley to the present the most of the poems +written by men who were not wholly white are indistinguishable from the +poems written by men who were wholly white. Whatever their merits might +be, these verses cast little or no light upon the deeper racial +sentiments of the people to whom the poets themselves belonged. But in +the lyrics to be grouped in the second of these classes there was a +racial quality. This contained the dialect verses in which there was an +avowed purpose of recapturing the color, the flavor, the movement of +life in "the quarters," in the cotton field and in the canebrake. Even +in this effort, white authors had led the way; Irvin Russell and Joel +Chandler Harris had made the path straight for Paul Laurence Dunbar, +with his lilting lyrics, often infused with the pathos of a down-trodden +folk. + +In the following pages Mr. James Weldon Johnson conforms to both of +these traditions. He gathers together a group of lyrics, delicate in +workmanship, fragrant with sentiment, and phrased in pure and +unexceptionable English. Then he has another group of dialect verses, +racy of the soil, pungent in flavor, swinging in rhythm and adroit in +rhyme. But where he shows himself a pioneer is the half-dozen larger +and bolder poems, of a loftier strain, in which he has been nobly +successful in expressing the higher aspirations of his own people. It +is in uttering this cry for recognition, for sympathy, for +understanding, and above all, for justice, that Mr. Johnson is most +original and most powerful. In the superb and soaring stanzas of +"Fifty Years" (published exactly half-a-century after the signing of +the Emancipation Proclamation) he has given us one of the noblest +commemorative poems yet written by any American,--a poem sonorous in +its diction, vigorous in its workmanship, elevated in its imagination +and sincere in its emotion. In it speaks the voice of his race; and +the race is fortunate in its spokesman. In it a fine theme has been +finely treated. In it we are made to see something of the soul of the +people who are our fellow citizens now and forever,--even if we do not +always so regard them. In it we are glad to acclaim a poem which any +living poet might be proud to call his own. + +BRANDER MATTHEWS. + +_Columbia University +in the City of New York._ + + + + +FIFTY YEARS & OTHER POEMS + +FIFTY YEARS + +1863-1913 + + + O brothers mine, to-day we stand + Where half a century sweeps our ken, + Since God, through Lincoln's ready hand, + Struck off our bonds and made us men. + + Just fifty years--a winter's day-- + As runs the history of a race; + Yet, as we look back o'er the way, + How distant seems our starting place! + + Look farther back! Three centuries! + To where a naked, shivering score, + Snatched from their haunts across the seas, + Stood, wild-eyed, on Virginia's shore. + + Far, far the way that we have trod, + From heathen kraals and jungle dens, + To freedmen, freemen, sons of God, + Americans and Citizens. + + A part of His unknown design, + We've lived within a mighty age; + And we have helped to write a line + On history's most wondrous page. + + A few black bondmen strewn along + The borders of our eastern coast, + Now grown a race, ten million strong, + An upward, onward marching host. + + Then let us here erect a stone, + To mark the place, to mark the time; + A witness to God's mercies shown, + A pledge to hold this day sublime. + + And let that stone an altar be, + Whereon thanksgivings we may lay, + Where we, in deep humility, + For faith and strength renewed may pray. + + With open hearts ask from above + New zeal, new courage and new pow'rs, + That we may grow more worthy of + This country and this land of ours. + + For never let the thought arise + That we are here on sufferance bare; + Outcasts, asylumed 'neath these skies, + And aliens without part or share. + + This land is ours by right of birth, + This land is ours by right of toil; + We helped to turn its virgin earth, + Our sweat is in its fruitful soil. + + Where once the tangled forest stood,-- + Where flourished once rank weed and thorn,-- + Behold the path-traced, peaceful wood, + The cotton white, the yellow corn. + + To gain these fruits that have been earned, + To hold these fields that have been won, + Our arms have strained, our backs have burned, + Bent bare beneath a ruthless sun. + + That Banner which is now the type + Of victory on field and flood-- + Remember, its first crimson stripe + Was dyed by Attucks' willing blood. + + And never yet has come the cry-- + When that fair flag has been assailed-- + For men to do, for men to die, + That have we faltered or have failed. + + We've helped to bear it, rent and torn, + Through many a hot-breath'd battle breeze; + Held in our hands, it has been borne + And planted far across the seas. + + And never yet--O haughty Land, + Let us, at least, for this be praised-- + Has one black, treason-guided hand + Ever against that flag been raised. + + Then should we speak but servile words, + Or shall we hang our heads in shame? + Stand back of new-come foreign hordes, + And fear our heritage to claim? + + No! stand erect and without fear, + And for our foes let this suffice-- + We've bought a rightful sonship here, + And we have more than paid the price. + + And yet, my brothers, well I know + The tethered feet, the pinioned wings, + The spirit bowed beneath the blow, + The heart grown faint from wounds and stings; + + The staggering force of brutish might, + That strikes and leaves us stunned and daezd; + The long, vain waiting through the night + To hear some voice for justice raised. + + Full well I know the hour when hope + Sinks dead, and 'round us everywhere + Hangs stifling darkness, and we grope + With hands uplifted in despair. + + Courage! Look out, beyond, and see + The far horizon's beckoning span! + Faith in your God-known destiny! + We are a part of some great plan. + + Because the tongues of Garrison + And Phillips now are cold in death, + Think you their work can be undone? + Or quenched the fires lit by their breath? + + Think you that John Brown's spirit stops? + That Lovejoy was but idly slain? + Or do you think those precious drops + From Lincoln's heart were shed in vain? + + That for which millions prayed and sighed, + That for which tens of thousands fought, + For which so many freely died, + God cannot let it come to naught. + + + + +TO AMERICA + + + How would you have us, as we are? + Or sinking 'neath the load we bear? + Our eyes fixed forward on a star? + Or gazing empty at despair? + + Rising or falling? Men or things? + With dragging pace or footsteps fleet? + Strong, willing sinews in your wings? + Or tightening chains about your feet? + + + + +O BLACK AND UNKNOWN BARDS + + + O black and unknown bards of long ago, + How came your lips to touch the sacred fire? + How, in your darkness, did you come to know + The power and beauty of the minstrel's lyre? + Who first from midst his bonds lifted his eyes? + Who first from out the still watch, lone and long, + Feeling the ancient faith of prophets rise + Within his dark-kept soul, burst into song? + + Heart of what slave poured out such melody + As "Steal away to Jesus"? On its strains + His spirit must have nightly floated free, + Though still about his hands he felt his chains. + Who heard great "Jordan roll"? Whose starward eye + Saw chariot "swing low"? And who was he + That breathed that comforting, melodic sigh, + "Nobody knows de trouble I see"? + + What merely living clod, what captive thing, + Could up toward God through all its darkness grope, + And find within its deadened heart to sing + These songs of sorrow, love, and faith, and hope? + How did it catch that subtle undertone, + That note in music heard not with the ears? + How sound the elusive reed so seldom blown, + Which stirs the soul or melts the heart to tears. + + Not that great German master in his dream + Of harmonies that thundered amongst the stars + At the creation, ever heard a theme + Nobler than "Go down, Moses." Mark its bars, + How like a mighty trumpet-call they stir + The blood. Such are the notes that men have sung + Going to valorous deeds; such tones there were + That helped make history when Time was young. + + There is a wide, wide wonder in it all, + That from degraded rest and servile toil + The fiery spirit of the seer should call + These simple children of the sun and soil. + O black slave singers, gone, forgot, unfamed, + You--you alone, of all the long, long line + Of those who've sung untaught, unknown, unnamed, + Have stretched out upward, seeking the divine. + + You sang not deeds of heroes or of kings; + No chant of bloody war, no exulting pean + Of arms-won triumphs; but your humble strings + You touched in chord with music empyrean. + You sang far better than you knew; the songs + That for your listeners' hungry hearts sufficed + Still live,--but more than this to you belongs: + You sang a race from wood and stone to Christ. + + + + +O SOUTHLAND! + + + O Southland! O Southland! + Have you not heard the call, + The trumpet blown, the word made known + To the nations, one and all? + The watchword, the hope-word, + Salvation's present plan? + A gospel new, for all--for you: + Man shall be saved by man. + + O Southland! O Southland! + Do you not hear to-day + The mighty beat of onward feet, + And know you not their way? + 'Tis forward, 'tis upward, + On to the fair white arch + Of Freedom's dome, and there is room + For each man who would march. + + O Southland, fair Southland! + Then why do you still cling + To an idle age and a musty page, + To a dead and useless thing? + 'Tis springtime! 'Tis work-time! + The world is young again! + And God's above, and God is love, + And men are only men. + + O Southland! my Southland! + O birthland! do not shirk + The toilsome task, nor respite ask, + But gird you for the work. + Remember, remember + That weakness stalks in pride; + That he is strong who helps along + The faint one at his side. + + + + +_To_ HORACE BUMSTEAD + + + Have you been sore discouraged in the fight, + And even sometimes weighted by the thought + That those with whom and those for whom you fought + Lagged far behind, or dared but faintly smite? + And that the opposing forces in their might + Of blind inertia rendered as for naught + All that throughout the long years had been wrought, + And powerless each blow for Truth and Right? + + If so, take new and greater courage then, + And think no more withouten help you stand; + For sure as God on His eternal throne + Sits, mindful of the sinful deeds of men, + --The awful Sword of Justice in His hand,-- + You shall not, no, you shall not, fight alone. + + + + +THE COLOR SERGEANT + +(_On an Incident at the Battle of San Juan Hill_) + + + Under a burning tropic sun, + With comrades around him lying, + A trooper of the sable Tenth + Lay wounded, bleeding, dying. + + First in the charge up the fort-crowned hill, + His company's guidon bearing, + He had rushed where the leaden hail fell fast, + Not death nor danger fearing. + + He fell in the front where the fight grew fierce, + Still faithful in life's last labor; + Black though his skin, yet his heart as true + As the steel of his blood-stained saber. + + And while the battle around him rolled, + Like the roar of a sullen breaker, + He closed his eyes on the bloody scene, + And presented arms to his Maker. + + There he lay, without honor or rank, + But, still, in a grim-like beauty; + Despised of men for his humble race, + Yet true, in death, to his duty. + + + + +THE BLACK MAMMY + + + O whitened head entwined in turban gay, + O kind black face, O crude, but tender hand, + O foster-mother in whose arms there lay + The race whose sons are masters of the land! + It was thine arms that sheltered in their fold, + It was thine eyes that followed through the length + Of infant days these sons. In times of old + It was thy breast that nourished them to strength. + + So often hast thou to thy bosom pressed + The golden head, the face and brow of snow; + So often has it 'gainst thy broad, dark breast + Lain, set off like a quickened cameo. + Thou simple soul, as cuddling down that babe + With thy sweet croon, so plaintive and so wild, + Came ne'er the thought to thee, swift like a stab, + That it some day might crush thine own black child? + + + + +FATHER, FATHER ABRAHAM + +(_On the Anniversary of Lincoln's Birth_) + + + Father, Father Abraham, + To-day look on us from above; + On us, the offspring of thy faith, + The children of thy Christ-like love. + + For that which we have humbly wrought, + Give us to-day thy kindly smile; + Wherein we've failed or fallen short, + Bear with us, Father, yet awhile. + + Father, Father Abraham, + To-day we lift our hearts to thee, + Filled with the thought of what great price + Was paid, that we might ransomed be. + + To-day we consecrate ourselves + Anew in hand and heart and brain, + To send this judgment down the years: + The ransom was not paid in vain. + + + + +BROTHERS + + + See! There he stands; not brave, but with an air + Of sullen stupor. Mark him well! Is he + Not more like brute than man? Look in his eye! + No light is there; none, save the glint that shines + In the now glaring, and now shifting orbs + Of some wild animal caught in the hunter's trap. + + How came this beast in human shape and form? + Speak, man!--We call you man because you wear + His shape--How are you thus? Are you not from + That docile, child-like, tender-hearted race + Which we have known three centuries? Not from + That more than faithful race which through three wars + Fed our dear wives and nursed our helpless babes + Without a single breach of trust? Speak out! + + I am, and am not. + + Then who, why are you? + + I am a thing not new, I am as old + As human nature. I am that which lurks, + Ready to spring whenever a bar is loosed; + The ancient trait which fights incessantly + Against restraint, balks at the upward climb; + The weight forever seeking to obey + The law of downward pull;--and I am more: + The bitter fruit am I of planted seed; + The resultant, the inevitable end + Of evil forces and the powers of wrong. + + Lessons in degradation, taught and learned, + The memories of cruel sights and deeds, + The pent-up bitterness, the unspent hate + Filtered through fifteen generations have + Sprung up and found in me sporadic life. + In me the muttered curse of dying men, + On me the stain of conquered women, and + Consuming me the fearful fires of lust, + Lit long ago, by other hands than mine. + In me the down-crushed spirit, the hurled-back prayers + Of wretches now long dead,--their dire bequests.-- + In me the echo of the stifled cry + Of children for their bartered mothers' breasts. + I claim no race, no race claims me; I am + No more than human dregs; degenerate; + The monstrous offspring of the monster, Sin; + I am--just what I am.... The race that fed + Your wives and nursed your babes would do the same + To-day, but I-- + + Enough, the brute must die! + Quick! Chain him to that oak! It will resist + The fire much longer than this slender pine. + Now bring the fuel! Pile it 'round him! Wait! + Pile not so fast or high! or we shall lose + The agony and terror in his face. + And now the torch! Good fuel that! the flames + Already leap head-high. Ha! hear that shriek! + And there's another! wilder than the first. + Fetch water! Water! Pour a little on + The fire, lest it should burn too fast. Hold so! + Now let it slowly blaze again. See there! + He squirms! He groans! His eyes bulge wildly out, + Searching around in vain appeal for help! + Another shriek, the last! Watch how the flesh + Grows crisp and hangs till, turned to ash, it sifts + Down through the coils of chain that hold erect + The ghastly frame against the bark-scorched tree. + + Stop! to each man no more than one man's share. + You take that bone, and you this tooth; the chain-- + Let us divide its links; this skull, of course, + In fair division, to the leader comes. + + And now his fiendish crime has been avenged; + Let us back to our wives and children.--Say, + What did he mean by those last muttered words, + "Brothers in spirit, brothers in deed are we"? + + + + +FRAGMENT + + + The hand of Fate cannot be stayed, + The course of Fate cannot be steered, + By all the gods that man has made, + Nor all the devils he has feared, + Not by the prayers that might be prayed + In all the temples he has reared. + + See! In your very midst there dwell + Ten thousand thousand blacks, a wedge + Forged in the furnaces of hell, + And sharpened to a cruel edge + By wrong and by injustice fell, + And driven by hatred as a sledge. + + A wedge so slender at the start-- + Just twenty slaves in shackles bound-- + And yet, which split the land apart + With shrieks of war and battle sound, + Which pierced the nation's very heart, + And still lies cankering in the wound. + + Not all the glory of your pride, + Preserved in story and in song, + Can from the judging future hide, + Through all the coming ages long, + That though you bravely fought and died, + You fought and died for what was wrong. + + 'Tis fixed--for them that violate + The eternal laws, naught shall avail + Till they their error expiate; + Nor shall their unborn children fail + To pay the full required weight + Into God's great, unerring scale. + + Think not repentance can redeem, + That sin his wages can withdraw; + No, think as well to change the scheme + Of worlds that move in reverent awe; + Forgiveness is an idle dream, + God is not love, no, God is law. + + + + +THE WHITE WITCH + + + O, brothers mine, take care! Take care! + The great white witch rides out to-night, + Trust not your prowess nor your strength; + Your only safety lies in flight; + For in her glance there is a snare, + And in her smile there is a blight. + + The great white witch you have not seen? + Then, younger brothers mine, forsooth, + Like nursery children you have looked + For ancient hag and snaggled tooth; + But no, not so; the witch appears + In all the glowing charms of youth. + + Her lips are like carnations red, + Her face like new-born lilies fair, + Her eyes like ocean waters blue, + She moves with subtle grace and air, + And all about her head there floats + The golden glory of her hair. + + But though she always thus appears + In form of youth and mood of mirth, + Unnumbered centuries are hers, + The infant planets saw her birth; + The child of throbbing Life is she, + Twin sister to the greedy earth. + + And back behind those smiling lips, + And down within those laughing eyes, + And underneath the soft caress + Of hand and voice and purring sighs, + The shadow of the panther lurks, + The spirit of the vampire lies. + + For I have seen the great white witch, + And she has led me to her lair, + And I have kissed her red, red lips + And cruel face so white and fair; + Around me she has twined her arms, + And bound me with her yellow hair. + + I felt those red lips burn and sear + My body like a living coal; + Obeyed the power of those eyes + As the needle trembles to the pole; + And did not care although I felt + The strength go ebbing from my soul. + + Oh! she has seen your strong young limbs, + And heard your laughter loud and gay, + And in your voices she has caught + The echo of a far-off day, + When man was closer to the earth; + And she has marked you for her prey. + + She feels the old Antaean strength + In you, the great dynamic beat + Of primal passions, and she sees + In you the last besieged retreat + Of love relentless, lusty, fierce, + Love pain-ecstatic, cruel-sweet. + + O, brothers mine, take care! Take care! + The great white witch rides out to-night. + O, younger brothers mine, beware! + Look not upon her beauty bright; + For in her glance there is a snare, + And in her smile there is a blight. + + + + +MOTHER NIGHT + + + Eternities before the first-born day, + Or ere the first sun fledged his wings of flame, + Calm Night, the everlasting and the same, + A brooding mother over chaos lay. + And whirling suns shall blaze and then decay, + Shall run their fiery courses and then claim + The haven of the darkness whence they came; + Back to Nirvanic peace shall grope their way. + + So when my feeble sun of life burns out, + And sounded is the hour for my long sleep, + I shall, full weary of the feverish light, + Welcome the darkness without fear or doubt, + And heavy-lidded, I shall softly creep + Into the quiet bosom of the Night. + + + + +THE YOUNG WARRIOR + + + Mother, shed no mournful tears, + But gird me on my sword; + And give no utterance to thy fears, + But bless me with thy word. + + The lines are drawn! The fight is on! + A cause is to be won! + Mother, look not so white and wan; + Give Godspeed to thy son. + + Now let thine eyes my way pursue + Where'er my footsteps fare; + And when they lead beyond thy view, + Send after me a prayer. + + But pray not to defend from harm, + Nor danger to dispel; + Pray, rather, that with steadfast arm + I fight the battle well. + + Pray, mother of mine, that I always keep + My heart and purpose strong, + My sword unsullied and ready to leap + Unsheathed against the wrong. + + + + +THE GLORY OF THE DAY WAS IN HER FACE + + + The glory of the day was in her face, + The beauty of the night was in her eyes. + And over all her loveliness, the grace + Of Morning blushing in the early skies. + + And in her voice, the calling of the dove; + Like music of a sweet, melodious part. + And in her smile, the breaking light of love; + And all the gentle virtues in her heart. + + And now the glorious day, the beauteous night, + The birds that signal to their mates at dawn, + To my dull ears, to my tear-blinded sight + Are one with all the dead, since she is gone. + + + + +SONNET + +(_From the Spanish of Placido_) + + + Enough of love! Let break its every hold! + Ended my youthful folly! for I know + That, like the dazzling, glister-shedding snow, + Celia, thou art beautiful, but cold. + I do not find in thee that warmth which glows, + Which, all these dreary days, my heart has sought, + That warmth without which love is lifeless, naught + More than a painted fruit, a waxen rose. + + Such love as thine, scarce can it bear love's name, + Deaf to the pleading notes of his sweet lyre, + A frank, impulsive heart I wish to claim, + A heart that blindly follows its desire. + I wish to embrace a woman full of flame, + I want to kiss a woman made of fire. + + + + +FROM THE SPANISH + + + Twenty years go by on noiseless feet, + He returns, and once again they meet, + She exclaims, "Good heavens! and is that he?" + He mutters, "My God! and that is she!" + + + + +FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND + + + Three students once tarried over the Rhine, + And into Frau Wirthin's turned to dine. + + "Say, hostess, have you good beer and wine? + And where is that pretty daughter of thine?" + + "My beer and wine is fresh and clear. + My daughter lies on her funeral bier." + + They softly tipped into the room; + She lay there in the silent gloom. + + The first the white cloth gently raised, + And tearfully upon her gazed. + + "If thou wert alive, O, lovely maid, + My heart at thy feet would to-day be laid!" + + The second covered her face again, + And turned away with grief and pain. + + "Ah, thou upon thy snow-white bier! + And I have loved thee so many a year." + + The third drew back again the veil, + And kissed the lips so cold and pale. + + "I've loved thee always, I love thee to-day, + And will love thee, yes, forever and aye!" + + + + +BEFORE A PAINTING + + + I knew not who had wrought with skill so fine + What I beheld; nor by what laws of art + He had created life and love and heart + On canvas, from mere color, curve and line. + Silent I stood and made no move or sign; + Not with the crowd, but reverently apart; + Nor felt the power my rooted limbs to start, + But mutely gazed upon that face divine. + + And over me the sense of beauty fell, + As music over a raptured listener to + The deep-voiced organ breathing out a hymn; + Or as on one who kneels, his beads to tell, + There falls the aureate glory filtered through + The windows in some old cathedral dim. + + + + +I HEAR THE STARS STILL SINGING + + + I hear the stars still singing + To the beautiful, silent night, + As they speed with noiseless winging + Their ever westward flight. + I hear the waves still falling + On the stretch of lonely shore, + But the sound of a sweet voice calling + I shall hear, alas! no more. + + + + +GIRL OF FIFTEEN + + + Girl of fifteen, + I see you each morning from my window + As you pass on your way to school. + I do more than see, I watch you. + I furtively draw the curtain aside. + And my heart leaps through my eyes + And follows you down the street; + Leaving me behind, half-hid + And wholly ashamed. + + What holds me back, + Half-hid behind the curtains and wholly ashamed, + But my forty years beyond your fifteen? + + Girl of fifteen, as you pass + There passes, too, a lightning flash of time + In which you lift those forty summers off my head, + And take those forty winters out of my heart. + + + + +THE SUICIDE + + + For fifty years, + Cruel, insatiable Old World, + You have punched me over the heart + Till you made me cough blood. + The few paltry things I gathered + You snatched out of my hands. + You have knocked the cup from my thirsty lips. + You have laughed at my hunger of body and soul. + + You look at me now and think, + "He is still strong, + There ought to be twenty more years of good punching there. + At the end of that time he will be old and broken, + Not able to strike back, + But cringing and crying for leave + To live a little longer." + + Those twenty, pitiful, extra years + Would please you more than the fifty past, + Would they not, Old World? + Well, I hold them up before your greedy eyes, + And snatch them away as I laugh in your face, + Ha! Ha! + Bang--! + + + + +DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA + +I + +_Sunrise in the Tropics_ + + + Sol, Sol, mighty lord of the tropic zone, + Here I wait with the trembling stars + To see thee once more take thy throne. + + There the patient palm tree watching + Waits to say, "Good morn" to thee, + And a throb of expectation + Pulses through the earth and me. + + Now, o'er nature falls a hush, + Look! the East is all a-blush; + And a growing crimson crest + Dims the late stars in the west; + Now, a flood of golden light + Sweeps across the silver night, + Swift the pale moon fades away + Before the light-girt King of Day, + See! the miracle is done! + Once more behold! The Sun! + + +II + +_Los Cigarillos_ + + + This is the land of the dark-eyed _gente_, + Of the _dolce far niente_, + Where we dream away + Both the night and day, + At night-time in sleep our dreams we invoke, + Our dreams come by day through the redolent smoke, + As it lazily curls, + And slowly unfurls + From our lips, + And the tips + Of our fragrant _cigarillos_. + For life in the tropics is only a joke, + So we pass it in dreams, and we pass it in smoke, + Smoke--smoke--smoke. + + Tropical constitutions + Call for occasional revolutions; + But after that's through, + Why there's nothing to do + But smoke--smoke; + + For life in the tropics is only a joke, + So we pass it in dreams, and we pass it in smoke, + Smoke--smoke--smoke. + + +III + +_Teestay_ + + + Of tropic sensations, the worst + Is, _sin duda_, the tropical thirst. + + When it starts in your throat and constantly grows, + Till you feel that it reaches down to your toes, + When your mouth tastes like fur + And your tongue turns to dust, + There's but one thing to do, + And do it you must, + Drink _teestay_. + + _Teestay_, a drink with a history, + A delicious, delectable mystery, + "_Cinco centavos el vaso, senor_," + If you take one, you will surely want more. + + _Teestay, teestay_, + The national drink on a feast day; + How it coolingly tickles, + As downward it trickles, + _Teestay, teestay_. + + And you wish, as you take it down at a quaff, + That your neck was constructed a la giraffe. + _Teestay, teestay_. + + +IV + +_The Lottery Girl_ + + + "Lottery, lottery, + Take a chance at the lottery? + Take a ticket, + Or, better, take two; + Who knows what the future + May hold for you? + Lottery, lottery, + Take a chance at the lottery?" + + Oh, limpid-eyed girl, + I would take every chance, + If only the prize + Were a love-flashing glance + From your fathomless eyes. + + "Lottery, lottery, + Try your luck at the lottery? + Consider the size + Of the capital prize, + And take tickets + For the lottery. + Tickets, _senor_? Tickets, _senor_? + Take a chance at the lottery?" + + Oh, crimson-lipped girl, + With the magical smile, + I would count that the gamble + Were well worth the while, + Not a chance would I miss, + If only the prize + Were a honey-bee kiss + Gathered in sips + From those full-ripened lips, + And a love-flashing glance + From your eyes. + + +V + +_The Dancing Girl_ + + + Do you know what it is to dance? + Perhaps, you do know, in a fashion; + But by dancing I mean, + Not what's generally seen, + But dancing of fire and passion, + Of fire and delirious passion. + + With a dusky-haired _senorita_, + Her dark, misty eyes near your own, + And her scarlet-red mouth, + Like a rose of the south, + The reddest that ever was grown, + So close that you catch + Her quick-panting breath + As across your own face it is blown, + With a sigh, and a moan. + + Ah! that is dancing, + As here by the Carib it's known. + + Now, whirling and twirling + Like furies we go; + Now, soft and caressing + And sinuously slow; + With an undulating motion, + Like waves on a breeze-kissed ocean:-- + And the scarlet-red mouth + Is nearer your own, + And the dark, misty eyes + Still softer have grown. + + Ah! that is dancing, that is loving, + As here by the Carib they're known. + + +VI + +_Sunset in the Tropics_ + + + A silver flash from the sinking sun, + Then a shot of crimson across the sky + That, bursting, lets a thousand colors fly + And riot among the clouds; they run, + Deepening in purple, flaming in gold, + Changing, and opening fold after fold, + Then fading through all of the tints of the rose into gray, + Till, taking quick fright at the coming night, + They rush out down the west, + In hurried quest + Of the fleeing day. + + Now above where the tardiest color flares a moment yet, + One point of light, now two, now three are set + To form the starry stairs,-- + And, in her fire-fly crown, + Queen Night, on velvet slippered feet, comes softly down. + + + + +AND THE GREATEST OF THESE IS WAR + + + Around the council-board of Hell, with Satan at their head, + The Three Great Scourges of humanity sat. + Gaunt Famine, with hollow cheek and voice, arose and spoke,-- + "O, Prince, I have stalked the earth, + And my victims by ten thousands I have slain, + I have smitten old and young. + Mouths of the helpless old moaning for bread, I have filled with dust; + And I have laughed to see a crying babe tug at the shriveling breast + Of its mother, dead and cold. + I have heard the cries and prayers of men go up to a tearless sky, + And fall back upon an earth of ashes; + But, heedless, I have gone on with my work. + 'Tis thus, O, Prince, that I have scourged mankind." + + And Satan nodded his head. + + Pale Pestilence, with stenchful breath, then spoke and said,-- + "Great Prince, my brother, Famine, attacks the poor. + He is most terrible against the helpless and the old. + But I have made a charnel-house of the mightiest cities of men. + When I strike, neither their stores of gold or of grain avail. + With a breath I lay low their strongest, and wither up their fairest. + I come upon them without warning, lancing invisible death. + From me they flee with eyes and mouths distended; + I poison the air for which they gasp, and I strike them down fleeing. + 'Tis thus, great Prince, that I have scourged mankind." + + And Satan nodded his head. + + Then the red monster, War, rose up and spoke,-- + His blood-shot eyes glared 'round him, and his thundering voice + Echoed through the murky vaults of Hell.-- + "O, mighty Prince, my brothers, Famine and Pestilence, + Have slain their thousands and ten thousands,--true; + But the greater their victories have been, + The more have they wakened in Man's breast + The God-like attributes of sympathy, of brotherhood and love + And made of him a searcher after wisdom. + But I arouse in Man the demon and the brute, + I plant black hatred in his heart and red revenge. + From the summit of fifty thousand years of upward climb + I haul him down to the level of the start, back to the wolf. + I give him claws. + I set his teeth into his brother's throat. + I make him drunk with his brother's blood. + And I laugh ho! ho! while he destroys himself. + O, mighty Prince, not only do I slay, + But I draw Man hellward." + + And Satan smiled, stretched out his hand, and said,-- + "O War, of all the scourges of humanity, I crown you chief." + + And Hell rang with the acclamation of the Fiends. + + + + +A MID-DAY DREAMER + + + I love to sit alone, and dream, + And dream, and dream; + In fancy's boat to softly glide + Along some stream + Where fairy palaces of gold + And crystal bright + Stand all along the glistening shore: + A wondrous sight. + + My craft is built of ivory, + With silver oars, + The sails are spun of golden threads, + And priceless stores + Of precious gems adorn its prow, + And 'round its mast + An hundred silken cords are set + To hold it fast. + + My galley-slaves are sprightly elves + Who, as they row, + And as their shining oars they swing + Them to and fro, + Keep time to music wafted on + The scented air, + Made by the mermaids as they comb + Their golden hair. + + And I the while lie idly back, + And dream, and dream, + And let them row me where they will + Adown the stream. + + + + +THE TEMPTRESS + + + Old Devil, when you come with horns and tail, + With diabolic grin and crafty leer; + I say, such bogey-man devices wholly fail + To waken in my heart a single fear. + + But when you wear a form I know so well, + A form so human, yet so near divine; + 'Tis then I fall beneath the magic of your spell, + 'Tis then I know the vantage is not mine. + + Ah! when you take your horns from off your head, + And soft and fragrant hair is in their place; + I must admit I fear the tangled path I tread + When that dear head is laid against my face. + + And at what time you change your baleful eyes + For stars that melt into the gloom of night, + All of my courage, my dear fellow, quickly flies; + I know my chance is slim to win the fight. + + And when, instead of charging down to wreck + Me on a red-hot pitchfork in your hand, + You throw a pair of slender arms about my neck, + I dare not trust the ground on which I stand. + + Whene'er in place of using patent wile, + Or trying to frighten me with horrid grin, + You tempt me with two crimson lips curved in a smile; + Old Devil, I must really own, you win. + + + + +GHOSTS OF THE OLD YEAR + + + The snow has ceased its fluttering flight, + The wind sunk to a whisper light, + An ominous stillness fills the night, + A pause--a hush. + At last, a sound that breaks the spell, + Loud, clanging mouthings of a bell, + That through the silence peal and swell, + And roll, and rush. + + What does this brazen tongue declare, + That falling on the midnight air + Brings to my heart a sense of care + Akin to fright? + 'Tis telling that the year is dead, + The New Year come, the Old Year fled, + Another leaf before me spread + On which to write. + + It tells the deeds that were not done, + It tells of races never run, + Of victories that were not won, + Barriers unleaped. + It tells of many a squandered day, + Of slighted gems and treasured clay, + Of precious stores not laid away, + Of fields unreaped. + + And so the years go swiftly by, + Each, coming, brings ambitions high, + And each, departing, leaves a sigh + Linked to the past. + Large resolutions, little deeds; + Thus, filled with aims unreached, life speeds + Until the blotted record reads, + "Failure!" at last. + + + + +THE GHOST OF DEACON BROWN + + + In a backwoods town + Lived Deacon Brown, + And he was a miser old; + He would trust no bank, + So he dug, and sank + In the ground a box of gold, + Down deep in the ground a box of gold. + + He hid his gold, + As has been told, + He remembered that he did it; + But sad to say, + On the very next day, + He forgot just where he hid it: + To find his gold he tried and tried + Till he grew faint and sick, and died. + + Then on each dark and gloomy night + A form in phosphorescent white, + A genuine hair-raising sight, + Would wander through the town. + And as it slowly roamed around, + With a spade it dug each foot of ground; + So the folks about + Said there was no doubt + 'Twas the ghost of Deacon Brown. + + Around the church + This Ghost would search, + And whenever it would see + The passers-by + Take wings and fly + It would laugh in ghostly glee, + Hee, hee!--it would laugh in ghostly glee. + + And so the town + Went quickly down, + For they said that it was haunted; + And doors and gates, + So the story states, + Bore a notice, "Tenants wanted." + + And the town is now for let, + But the ghost is digging yet. + + + + +"LAZY" + + + Some men enjoy the constant strife + Of days with work and worry rife, + But that is not my dream of life: + I think such men are crazy. + For me, a life with worries few, + A job of nothing much to do, + Just pelf enough to see me through: + I fear that I am lazy. + + On winter mornings cold and drear, + When six o'clock alarms I hear, + 'Tis then I love to shift my ear, + And hug my downy pillows. + When in the shade it's ninety-three, + No job in town looks good to me, + I'd rather loaf down by the sea, + And watch the foaming billows. + + Some people think the world's a school, + Where labor is the only rule; + But I'll not make myself a mule, + And don't you ever doubt it. + I know that work may have its use, + But still I feel that's no excuse + For turning it into abuse; + What do _you_ think about it? + + Let others fume and sweat and boil, + And scratch and dig for golden spoil, + And live the life of work and toil, + Their lives to labor giving. + But what is gold when life is sped, + And life is short, as has been said, + And we are such a long time dead, + I'll spend my life in living. + + + + +OMAR + + + Old Omar, jolly sceptic, it may be + That, after all, you found the magic key + To life and all its mystery, and I + Must own you have almost persuaded me. + + + + +DEEP IN THE QUIET WOOD + + + Are you bowed down in heart? + Do you but hear the clashing discords and the din of life? + Then come away, come to the peaceful wood, + Here bathe your soul in silence. Listen! Now, + From out the palpitating solitude + Do you not catch, yet faint, elusive strains? + They are above, around, within you, everywhere. + Silently listen! Clear, and still more clear, they come. + They bubble up in rippling notes, and swell in singing tones. + Now let your soul run the whole gamut of the wondrous scale + Until, responsive to the tonic chord, + It touches the diapason of God's grand cathedral organ, + Filling earth for you with heavenly peace + And holy harmonies. + + + + +VOLUPTAS + + + To chase a never-reached mirage + Across the hot, white sand, + And choke and die, while gazing on + Its green and watered strand. + + + + +THE WORD OF AN ENGINEER + + + "She's built of steel + From deck to keel, + And bolted strong and tight; + In scorn she'll sail + The fiercest gale, + And pierce the darkest night. + + "The builder's art + Has proved each part + Throughout her breadth and length; + Deep in the hulk, + Of her mighty bulk, + Ten thousand Titans' strength." + + The tempest howls, + The Ice Wolf prowls, + The winds they shift and veer, + But calm I sleep, + And faith I keep + In the word of an engineer. + + Along the trail + Of the slender rail + The train, like a nightmare, flies + And dashes on + Through the black-mouthed yawn + Where the cavernous tunnel lies. + + Over the ridge, + Across the bridge, + Swung twixt the sky and hell, + On an iron thread + Spun from the head + Of the man in a draughtsman's cell. + + And so we ride + Over land and tide, + Without a thought of fear-- + _Man never had + The faith in God + That he has in an engineer!_ + + + + +LIFE + + + Out of the infinite sea of eternity + To climb, and for an instant stand + Upon an island speck of time. + + From the impassible peace of the darkness + To wake, and blink at the garish light + Through one short hour of fretfulness. + + + + +SLEEP + + + O Sleep, thou kindest minister to man, + Silent distiller of the balm of rest, + How wonderful thy power, when naught else can, + To soothe the torn and sorrow-laden breast! + When bleeding hearts no comforter can find, + When burdened souls droop under weight of woe, + When thought is torture to the troubled mind, + When grief-relieving tears refuse to flow; + 'Tis then thou comest on soft-beating wings, + And sweet oblivion's peace from them is shed; + But ah, the old pain that the waking brings! + That lives again so soon as thou art fled! + + Man, why should thought of death cause thee to weep; + Since death be but an endless, dreamless sleep? + + + + +PRAYER AT SUNRISE + + + O mighty, powerful, dark-dispelling sun, + Now thou art risen, and thy day begun. + How shrink the shrouding mists before thy face, + As up thou spring'st to thy diurnal race! + How darkness chases darkness to the west, + As shades of light on light rise radiant from thy crest! + For thee, great source of strength, emblem of might, + In hours of darkest gloom there is no night. + Thou shinest on though clouds hide thee from sight, + And through each break thou sendest down thy light. + + O greater Maker of this Thy great sun, + Give me the strength this one day's race to run, + Fill me with light, fill me with sun-like strength, + Fill me with joy to rob the day its length. + Light from within, light that will outward shine, + Strength to make strong some weaker heart than mine, + Joy to make glad each soul that feels its touch; + Great Father of the sun, I ask this much. + + + + +THE GIFT TO SING + + + Sometimes the mist overhangs my path, + And blackening clouds about me cling; + But, oh, I have a magic way + To turn the gloom to cheerful day-- + I softly sing. + + And if the way grows darker still, + Shadowed by Sorrow's somber wing, + With glad defiance in my throat, + I pierce the darkness with a note, + And sing, and sing. + + I brood not over the broken past, + Nor dread whatever time may bring; + No nights are dark, no days are long, + While in my heart there swells a song, + And I can sing. + + + + +MORNING, NOON AND NIGHT + + + When morning shows her first faint flush, + I think of the tender blush + That crept so gently to your cheek + When first my love I dared to speak; + How, in your glance, a dawning ray + Gave promise of love's perfect day. + + When, in the ardent breath of noon, + The roses with passion swoon; + There steals upon me from the air + The scent that lurked within your hair; + I touch your hand, I clasp your form-- + Again your lips are close and warm. + + When comes the night with beauteous skies, + I think of your tear-dimmed eyes, + Their mute entreaty that I stay, + Although your lips sent me away; + And then falls memory's bitter blight, + And dark--so dark becomes the night. + + + + +HER EYES TWIN POOLS + + + Her eyes, twin pools of mystic light, + The blend of star-sheen and black night; + O'er which, to sound their glamouring haze, + A man might bend, and vainly gaze. + + Her eyes, twin pools so dark and deep, + In which life's ancient mysteries sleep; + Wherein, to seek the quested goal, + A man might plunge, and lose his soul. + + + + +THE AWAKENING + + + I dreamed that I was a rose + That grew beside a lonely way, + Close by a path none ever chose, + And there I lingered day by day. + Beneath the sunshine and the show'r + I grew and waited there apart, + Gathering perfume hour by hour, + And storing it within my heart, + Yet, never knew, + Just why I waited there and grew. + + I dreamed that you were a bee + That one day gaily flew along, + You came across the hedge to me, + And sang a soft, love-burdened song. + You brushed my petals with a kiss, + I woke to gladness with a start, + And yielded up to you in bliss + The treasured fragrance of my heart; + And then I knew + That I had waited there for you. + + + + +BEAUTY THAT IS NEVER OLD + + + When buffeted and beaten by life's storms, + When by the bitter cares of life oppressed, + I want no surer haven than your arms, + I want no sweeter heaven than your breast. + + When over my life's way there falls the blight + Of sunless days, and nights of starless skies; + Enough for me, the calm and steadfast light + That softly shines within your loving eyes. + + The world, for me, and all the world can hold + Is circled by your arms; for me there lies, + Within the lights and shadows of your eyes, + The only beauty that is never old. + + + + +VENUS IN A GARDEN + + + 'Twas at early morning, + The dawn was blushing in her purple bed, + When in a sweet, embowered garden + She, the fairest of the goddesses, + The lovely Venus, + Roamed amongst the roses white and red. + She sought for flowers + To make a garland + For her golden head. + + Snow-white roses, blood-red roses, + In that sweet garden close, + Offered incense to the goddess: + Both the white and the crimson rose. + + White roses, red roses, blossoming: + But the fair Venus knew + The crimson roses had gained their hue + From the hearts that for love had bled; + And the goddess made a garland + Gathered from the roses red. + + + + +VASHTI + + + I sometimes take you in my dreams to a far-off land I used to know, + Back in the ages long ago; a land of palms and languid streams. + + A land, by night, of jeweled skies, by day, of shores that glistened bright, + Within whose arms, outstretched and white, a sapphire sea lay crescent-wise. + + Where twilight fell like silver floss, where rose the golden moon half-hid + Behind a shadowy pyramid; a land beneath the Southern Cross. + + And there the days dreamed in their flight, each one a poem chanted through, + Which at its close was merged into the muted music of the night. + + And you were a princess in those days. And I--I was your serving lad. + But who ever served with heart so glad, or lived so for a word of praise? + + And if that word you chanced to speak, how all my senses swayed and reeled, + Till low beside your feet I kneeled, with happiness o'erwrought and weak. + + If, when your golden cup I bore, you deigned to lower your eyes to mine, + Eyes cold, yet fervid, like the wine, I knew not how to wish for more. + + I trembled at the thought to dare to gaze upon, to scrutinize + The deep-sea mystery of your eyes, the sun-lit splendor of your hair. + + To let my timid glances rest upon you long enough to note + How fair and slender was your throat, how white the promise of your breast. + + But though I did not dare to chance a lingering look, an open gaze + Upon your beauty's blinding rays, I ventured many a stolen glance. + + I fancy, too, (but could not state what trick of mind the fancy caused) + At times your eyes upon me paused, and marked my figure lithe and straight. + + Once when my eyes met yours it seemed that in your cheek, despite your pride, + A flush arose and swiftly died; or was it something that I dreamed? + + Within your radiance like the star of morning, there I stood and served, + Close by, unheeded, unobserved. You were so near, and, yet, so far. + + Ah! just to stretch my hand and touch the musky sandals on your feet!-- + My breaking heart! of rapture sweet it never could have held so much. + + Oh, beauty-haunted memory! Your face so proud, your eyes so calm, + Your body like a slim young palm, and sinuous as a willow tree. + + Caught up beneath your slender arms, and girdled 'round your supple waist, + A robe of curious silk that graced, but only scarce concealed your charms. + + A golden band about your head, a crimson jewel at your throat + Which, when the sunlight on it smote, turned to a living heart and bled. + + But, oh, that mystic bleeding stone, that work of Nature's magic art, + Which mimicked so a wounded heart, could never bleed as did my own! + + Now after ages long and sad, in this stern land we meet anew; + No more a princess proud are you, and I--I am no serving lad. + + And yet, dividing us, I meet a wider gulf than that which stood + Between a princess of the blood and him who served low at her feet. + + + + +THE REWARD + + + No greater earthly boon than this I crave, + That those who some day gather 'round my grave, + In place of tears, may whisper of me then, + "He sang a song that reached the hearts of men." + + + + +JINGLES & CROONS + + +SENCE YOU WENT AWAY + + + Seems lak to me de stars don't shine so bright, + Seems lak to me de sun done loss his light, + Seems lak to me der's nothin' goin' right, + Sence you went away. + + Seems lak to me de sky ain't half so blue, + Seems lak to me dat ev'ything wants you, + Seems lak to me I don't know what to do, + Sence you went away. + + Seems lak to me dat ev'ything is wrong, + Seems lak to me de day's jes twice as long, + Seems lak to me de bird's forgot his song, + Sence you went away. + + Seems lak to me I jes can't he'p but sigh, + Seems lak to me ma th'oat keeps gittin' dry, + Seems lak to me a tear stays in ma eye, + Sence you went away. + + + + +MA LADY'S LIPS AM LIKE DE HONEY + +(_Negro Love Song_) + + + Breeze a-sighin' and a-blowin', + Southern summer night. + Stars a-gleamin' and a-glowin', + Moon jes shinin' right. + Strollin', like all lovers do, + Down de lane wid Lindy Lou; + Honey on her lips to waste; + 'Speck I'm gwine to steal a taste. + + Oh, ma lady's lips am like de honey, + Ma lady's lips am like de rose; + An' I'm jes like de little bee a-buzzin' + 'Round de flower wha' de nectah grows. + Ma lady's lips dey smile so temptin', + Ma lady's teeth so white dey shine, + Oh, ma lady's lips so tantalizin', + Ma lady's lips so close to mine. + + Bird a-whistlin' and a-swayin' + In de live-oak tree; + Seems to me he keeps a-sayin', + "Kiss dat gal fo' me." + Look heah, Mister Mockin' Bird, + Gwine to take you at yo' word; + If I meets ma Waterloo, + Gwine to blame it all on you. + + Oh, ma lady's lips am like de honey, + Ma lady's lips am like de rose; + An' I'm jes like de little bee a-buzzin' + 'Round de flower wha' de nectah grows. + Ma lady's lips dey smile so temptin', + Ma lady's teeth so white dey shine, + Oh, ma lady's lips so tantalizin', + Ma lady's lips so close to mine. + + Honey in de rose, I spose, is + Put der fo' de bee; + Honey on her lips, I knows, is + Put der jes fo' me. + Seen a sparkle in her eye, + Heard her heave a little sigh; + Felt her kinder squeeze ma han', + 'Nuff to make me understan'. + + + + +TUNK + +(_A Lecture on Modern Education_) + + + Look heah, Tunk!--Now, ain't dis awful! T'ought I sont you off to school. + Don't you know dat you is growin' up to be a reg'lah fool? + + Whah's dem books dat I's done bought you? Look heah, boy, you tell me quick, + Whah's dat Webster blue-back spellah an' dat bran' new 'rifmatic? + + W'ile I'm t'inkin' you is lahnin' in de school, why bless ma soul! + You off in de woods a-playin'. Can't you do like you is tole? + + Boy, I tell you, it's jes scan'lous d'way dat you is goin' on. + An' you sholy go'n be sorry, jes as true as you is bo'n. + + Heah I'm tryin' hard to raise you as a credit to dis race, + An' you tryin' heap much harder fu' to come up in disgrace. + + Dese de days w'en men don't git up to de top by hooks an' crooks; + Tell you now, dey's got to git der standin' on a pile o' books. + + W'en you sees a darkey goin' to de fiel' as soon as light, + Followin' a mule across it f'om de mawnin' tel de night, + + Wukin' all his life fu' vittles, hoein' 'tween de cott'n rows, + W'en he knocks off ole an' tiah'd, ownin' nut'n but his clo'es, + + You kin put it down to ignunce, aftah all what's done an' said, + You kin bet dat dat same darkey ain't got nut'n in his head. + + Ain't you seed dem w'ite men set'n in der awfice? Don't you know + Dey goes der 'bout nine each mawnin? Bless yo' soul, dey's out by fo'. + + Dey jes does a little writin'; does dat by some easy means; + Gals jes set an' play piannah on dem printin' press muchines. + + Chile, dem men knows how to figgah, how to use dat little pen, + An' dey knows dat blue-back spellah f'om beginnin' to de en'. + + Dat's de 'fect of education; dat's de t'ing what's gwine to rule; + Git dem books, you lazy rascal! Git back to yo' place in school! + + + + +NOBODY'S LOOKIN' BUT DE OWL AND DE MOON + +(_A Negro Serenade_) + + + De river is a-glistenin' in de moonlight, + De owl is set'n high up in de tree; + De little stars am twinklin' wid a sof' light, + De night seems only jes fu' you an' me. + Thoo de trees de breezes am a-sighin', + Breathin' out a sort o' lover's croon, + Der's nobody lookin' or a-spyin', + Nobody but de owl an' de moon. + + Nobody's lookin' but de owl an' de moon, + An' de night is balmy; fu' de month is June; + Come den, Honey, won't you? Come to meet me soon, + Wile nobody's lookin' but de owl an' de moon. + + I feel so kinder lonely all de daytime, + It seems I raly don't know what to do; + I jes keep sort a-longin' fu' de night-time, + 'Cause den I know dat I can be wid you. + An' de thought jes sets my brain a-swayin', + An' my heart a-beatin' to a tune; + Come, de owl won't tell w'at we's a-sayin', + An' cose you know we kin trus' de moon. + + + + +YOU'S SWEET TO YO' MAMMY JES DE SAME + +(_Lullaby_) + + + Shet yo' eyes, ma little pickaninny, go to sleep + Mammy's watchin' by you all de w'ile; + Daddy is a-wukin' down in de cott'n fiel', + Wukin' fu' his little honey child. + An' yo' mammy's heart is jes a-brimmin' full o' lub + Fu' you f'om yo' head down to yo' feet; + Oh, no mattah w'at some othah folks may t'ink o' you, + To yo' mammy's heart you's mighty sweet. + + You's sweet to yo' mammy jes de same; + Dat's why she calls you Honey fu' yo' name. + Yo' face is black, dat's true, + An' yo' hair is woolly, too, + But, you's sweet to yo' mammy jes de same. + + Up der in de big house w'ere dey lib so rich an' gran' + Dey's got chillen dat dey lubs, I s'pose; + Chillen dat is purty, oh, but dey can't lub dem mo' + Dan yo' mammy lubs you, heaben knows! + + Dey may t'ink you's homely, an' yo' clo'es dey may be po', + But yo' shinin' eyes, dey hol's a light + Dat, my Honey, w'en you opens dem so big an' roun', + Makes you lubly in yo' mammy's sight. + + + + +A PLANTATION BACCHANAL + + + W'en ole Mister Sun gits tiah'd a-hangin' + High up in de sky; + W'en der ain't no thunder and light'nin' a-bangin', + An' de crap's done all laid by; + W'en yo' bones ain't achin' wid de rheumatics, + Den yo' ride de mule to town, + Git a great big jug o' de ole corn juice, + An' w'en you drink her down-- + + Jes lay away ole Trouble, + An' dry up all yo' tears; + Yo' pleasure sho' to double + An' you bound to lose yo' keers. + Jes lay away ole Sorrer + High upon de shelf; + And never mind to-morrer, + 'Twill take care of itself. + + W'en ole Mister Age begins a-stealin' + Thoo yo' back an' knees, + W'en yo' bones an' jints lose der limber feelin', + An' am stiff'nin' by degrees; + Now der's jes one way to feel young and spry, + W'en you heah dem banjos soun' + Git a great big swig o' de ole corn juice, + An' w'en you drink her down-- + + Jes lay away ole Trouble, + An' dry up all yo' tears; + Yo' pleasure sho' to double + An' you bound to lose yo' keers. + Jes lay away ole Sorrer + High upon de shelf; + And never mind to-morrer, + 'Twill take care of itself. + + + + +JULY IN GEORGY + + + I'm back down in ole Georgy w'ere de sun is shinin' hot, + W'ere de cawn it is a-tasslin', gittin' ready fu' de pot; + + W'ere de cott'n is a-openin' an' a-w'itenin' in de sun, + An' de ripenin' o' de sugah-cane is mighty nigh begun. + + An' de locus' is a-singin' f'om eveh bush an' tree, + An' you kin heah de hummin' o' de noisy bumblebee; + + An' de mule he stan's a-dreamin' an' a-dreamin' in de lot, + An' de sun it is a-shinin' mighty hot, hot, hot. + + But evehbody is a-restin', fu' de craps is all laid by, + An' time fu' de camp-meetin' is a-drawin' purty nigh; + + An' we's put away de ploughshare, an' we's done hung up de spade, + An' we's eatin' watermelon, an' a-layin' in de shade. + + + + +A BANJO SONG + + + W'en de banjos wuz a-ringin', + An' de darkies wuz a-singin', + Oh, wuzen dem de good times sho! + All de ole folks would be chattin', + An' de pickaninnies pattin', + As dey heah'd de feet a-shufflin' 'cross de flo'. + + An' how we'd dance, an' how we'd sing! + Dance tel de day done break. + An' how dem banjos dey would ring, + An' de cabin flo' would shake! + + Come along, come along, + Come along, come along, + Don't you heah dem banjos a-ringin'? + + Gib a song, gib a song, + Gib a song, gib a song, + Git yo' feet fixed up fu' a-wingin'. + + W'ile de banjos dey go plunka, plunka, plunk, + We'll dance tel de ole flo' shake; + W'ile de feet keep a-goin' chooka, chooka, chook, + We'll dance tel de day done break. + + + + +ANSWER TO PRAYER + + + Der ain't no use in sayin' de Lawd won't answer prah; + If you knows how to ax Him, I knows He's bound to heah. + + De trouble is, some people don't ax de proper way, + Den w'en dey git's no answer dey doubts de use to pray. + + You got to use egzac'ly de 'spressions an' de words + To show dat 'tween yo' faith an' works, you 'pends on works two-thirds. + + Now, one time I remember--jes how long I won't say-- + I thought I'd like a turkey to eat on Chris'mus day. + + Fu' weeks I dreamed 'bout turkeys, a-struttin' in der pride; + But seed no way to get one--widout de Lawd pervide. + + An' so I went to prayin', I pray'd wid all my might; + "Lawd, sen' _to_ me a turkey." I pray'd bofe day an' night. + + "Lawd, sen' _to_ me a turkey, a big one if you please." + I 'clar to heaben I pray'd so much I mos' wore out ma knees. + + I pray'd dat prah so often, I pray'd dat prah so long, + Yet didn't git no turkey, I know'd 'twas sump'n wrong. + + So on de night 'fore Chris'mus w'en I got down to pray, + "Lawd, sen' _me_ to a turkey," I had de sense to say. + + "Lawd, sen' _me_ to a turkey." I know dat prah was right, + An' it was sholy answer'd; I got de bird dat night. + + + + +DAT GAL O' MINE + + + Skin as black an' jes as sof' as a velvet dress, + Teeth as white as ivory--well dey is I guess. + + Eyes dat's jes as big an' bright as de evenin' star; + An' dat hol' some sort o' light lublier by far. + + Hair don't hang 'way down her back; plaited up in rows; + Wid de two en's dat's behin' tied wid ribben bows. + + Han's dat raly wuz'n made fu' hard work, I'm sho'; + Got a little bit o' foot; weahs a numbah fo'. + + You jes oughtah see dat gal Sunday's w'en she goes + To de Baptis' meetin' house, dressed in her bes' clo'es. + + W'en she puts her w'ite dress on an' othah things so fine; + Now, Su', don't you know I'm proud o' dat gal o' mine. + + + + +THE SEASONS + + + W'en de leaves begin to fall, + An' de fros' is on de ground, + An' de 'simmons is a-ripenin' on de tree; + W'en I heah de dinner call, + An' de chillen gadder 'round, + 'Tis den de 'possum is de meat fu' me. + + W'en de wintertime am pas' + An' de spring is come at las', + W'en de good ole summer sun begins to shine; + Oh! my thoughts den tek a turn, + An' my heart begins to yearn + Fo' dat watermelon growin' on de vine. + + Now, de yeah will sholy bring + 'Round a season fu' us all, + Ev'y one kin pick his season f'om de res'; + But de melon in de spring, + An' de 'possum in de fall, + Mek it hard to tell which time o' year am bes'. + + + + +'POSSUM SONG + +(_A Warning_) + + + 'Simmons ripenin' in de fall, + You better run, + Brudder 'Possum, run! + Mockin' bird commence to call, + You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way! + You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way! + Run some whar an' hide! + Ole moon am sinkin' + Down behin' de tree. + Ole Eph am thinkin' + An' chuckelin' wid glee. + Ole Tige am blinkin' + An' frisky as kin be, + Yo' chances, Brudder 'Possum, + Look mighty slim to me. + + Run, run, run, I tell you, + Run, Brudder 'Possum, run! + Run, run, run, I tell you, + Ole Eph's got a gun. + Pickaninnies grinnin' + Waitin' fu' to see de fun. + You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way! + Run, Brudder 'Possum, run! + + Brudder 'Possum take a tip; + You better run, + Brudder 'Possum, run! + 'Tain't no use in actin' flip, + You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way! + You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way! + Run some whar an' hide. + Dey's gwine to houn' you + All along de line, + W'en dey done foun' you, + Den what's de use in sighin'? + Wid taters roun' you. + You sholy would tase fine-- + So listen, Brudder 'Possum, + You better be a-flyin'. + + Run, run, run, I tell you, + Run, Brudder 'Possum, run! + Run, run, run, I tell you, + Ole Eph's got a gun. + Pickaninnies grinnin' + Waitin' fu' to see de fun. + You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way! + Run, Brudder 'Possum, run! + + + + +BRER RABBIT, YOU'S DE CUTES' OF 'EM ALL + + + Once der was a meetin' in de wilderness, + All de critters of creation dey was dar; + Brer Rabbit, Brer 'Possum, Brer Wolf, Brer Fox, + King Lion, Mister Terrapin, Mister B'ar. + De question fu' discussion was, "Who is de bigges' man?" + Dey 'pinted ole Jedge Owl to decide; + He polished up his spectacles an' put 'em on his nose, + An' to the question slowly he replied: + + "Brer Wolf am mighty cunnin', + Brer Fox am mighty sly, + Brer Terrapin an' 'Possum--kinder small; + Brer Lion's mighty vicious, + Brer B'ar he's sorter 'spicious, + Brer Rabbit, you's de cutes' of 'em all." + + Dis caused a great confusion 'mongst de animals, + Ev'y critter claimed dat he had won de prize; + Dey 'sputed an' dey arg'ed, dey growled an' dey roared, + Den putty soon de dus' begin to rise. + + Brer Rabbit he jes' stood aside an' urged 'em on to fight. + Brer Lion he mos' tore Brer B'ar in two; + W'en dey was all so tiahd dat dey couldn't catch der bref + Brer Rabbit he jes' grabbed de prize an' flew. + + Brer Wolf am mighty cunnin', + Brer Fox am mighty sly, + Brer Terrapin an' Possum--kinder small; + Brer Lion's mighty vicious, + Brer B'ar he's sorter 'spicious, + Brer Rabbit, you's de cutes' of 'em all. + + + + +AN EXPLANATION + + + Look heah! 'Splain to me de reason + Why you said to Squire Lee, + Der wuz twelve ole chicken thieves + In dis heah town, includin' me. + Ef he tole you dat, my brudder, + He said sump'n dat warn't true; + W'at I said wuz dis, dat der wuz + Twelve, _widout_ includin' you. + + Oh!...!-- + + + + +DE LITTLE PICKANINNY'S GONE TO SLEEP + + + Cuddle down, ma honey, in yo' bed, + Go to sleep an' res' yo' little head, + Been a-kind o' ailin' all de day? + Didn't have no sperit fu' to play? + Never min'; to-morrer, w'en you wek, + Daddy's gwine to ride you on his bek, + 'Roun' an' roun' de cabin flo' so fas'-- + Der! He's closed his little eyes at las'. + + De little pickaninny's gone to sleep, + Cuddled in his trundle bed so tiny, + De little pickaninny's gone to sleep, + Closed his little eyes so bright an' shiny. + Hush! an' w'en you walk across de flo' + Step across it very sof' an' slow. + De shadders all aroun' begin to creep, + De little pickaninny's gone to sleep. + + Mandy, w'at's de matter wid dat chile? + Keeps a-sighin' ev'y little w'ile; + Seems to me I heayhd him sorter groan, + Lord! his little han's am col' as stone! + W'at's dat far-off light dat's in his eyes? + Dat's a light dey's borrow'd f'om de skies; + Fol' his little han's across his breas', + Let de little pickaninny res'. + + + + +THE RIVALS + + + Look heah! Is I evah tole you 'bout de curious way I won + Anna Liza? Say, I nevah? Well heah's how de thing wuz done. + + Lize, you know, wuz mighty purty--dat's been forty yeahs ago-- + 'N 'cos to look at her dis minit, you might'n spose dat it wuz so. + + She wuz jes de greates' 'traction in de county, 'n bless de lam'! + Eveh darkey wuz a-co'tin, but it lay 'twix me an' Sam. + + You know Sam. We both wuz wukin' on de ole John Tompkin's place. + 'N evehbody wuz a-watchin' t'see who's gwine to win de race. + + Hee! hee! hee! Now you mus' raley 'scuse me fu' dis snickering, + But I jes can't he'p f'om laffin' eveh time I tells dis thing. + + Ez I wuz a-sayin', me an' Sam wuked daily side by side, + He a-studyin', me a-studyin', how to win Lize fu' a bride. + + Well, de race was kinder equal, Lize wuz sorter on de fence; + Sam he had de mostes dollars, an' I had de mostes sense. + + Things dey run along 'bout eben tel der come Big Meetin' day; + Sam den thought, to win Miss Liza, he had foun' de shoest way. + + An' you talk about big meetin's! None been like it 'fore nor sence; + Der wuz sich a crowd o' people dat we had to put up tents. + + Der wuz preachers f'om de Eas', an' 'der wuz preachers f'om de Wes'; + Folks had kilt mos' eveh chicken, an' wuz fattenin' up de res'. + + Gals had all got new w'ite dresses, an' bought ribbens fu' der hair, + Fixin' fu' de openin' Sunday, prayin' dat de day'd be fair. + + Dat de Reveren' Jasper Jones of Mount Moriah, it wuz 'low'd, + Wuz to preach de openin' sermon; so you know der wuz a crowd. + + Fu' dat man wuz sho a preacher; had a voice jes like a bull; + So der ain't no use in sayin' dat de meetin' house wuz full. + + Folks wuz der f'om Big Pine Hollow, some come 'way f'om Muddy Creek, + Some come jes to stay fu' Sunday, but de crowd stay'd thoo de week. + + Some come ridin' in top-buggies wid de w'eels all painted red, + Pulled by mules dat run like rabbits, each one tryin' to git ahead. + + Othah po'rer folks come drivin' mules dat leaned up 'ginst de shaf', + Hitched to broke-down, creaky wagons dat looked like dey'd drap in half. + + But de bigges' crowd come walkin', wid der new shoes on der backs; + 'Scuse wuz dat dey couldn't weah em 'cause de heels wuz full o' tacks. + + Fact is, it's a job for Job, a-trudgin' in de sun an' heat, + Down a long an' dusty clay road wid yo' shoes packed full o' feet. + + 'Cose dey stopt an' put dem shoes on w'en dey got mos' to de do'; + Den dey had to grin an' bear it; dat tuk good religion sho. + + But I mos' forgot ma story,--well at las' dat Sunday came + And it seemed dat evehbody, blin' an' deef, an' halt an' lame, + + Wuz out in de grove a-waitin' fu' de meetin' to begin; + Ef dat crowd had got converted 'twould a been de end o' sin. + + Lize wuz der in all her glory, purty ez a big sunflowah, + I kin 'member how she looked jes same ez 'twuz dis ve'y houah. + + But to make ma story shorter, w'ile we wuz a-waitin' der, + Down de road we spied a cloud o' dus' dat filled up all de air. + + An' ez we kep' on a-lookin', out f'om 'mongst dat ve'y cloud, + Sam, on Marse John's big mule, Caesar, rode right slam up in de crowd. + + You jes oughtah seed dat darkey, 'clar I like tah loss ma bref; + Fu' to use a common 'spression, he wuz 'bout nigh dressed to def. + + He had slipped to town dat Sat'day, didn't let nobody know, + An' had car'yd all his cash an' lef it in de dry goods sto'. + + He had on a bran' new suit o' sto'-bought clo'es, a high plug hat; + He looked 'zactly like a gen'man, tain't no use d'nyin' dat. + + W'en he got down off dat mule an' bowed to Liza I could see + How she looked at him so 'dmirin', an' jes kinder glanced at me. + + Den I know'd to win dat gal, I sho would need some othah means + 'Sides a-hangin' 'round big meetin' in a suit o' homespun jeans. + + W'en dey blow'd de ho'n fu' preachin', an' de crowd all went inside, + I jes felt ez doh I'd like tah go off in de woods an' hide. + + So I stay'd outside de meetin', set'n underneat' de trees, + Seemed to me I sot der ages, wid ma elbows on ma knees. + + W'en dey sung dat hymn, "Nobody knows de trouble dat I see," + Seem'd to me dat dey wuz singin' eveh word o' it fu' me. + + Jes how long I might ha' sot der, actin' like a cussed fool, + I don't know, but it jes happen'd dat I look'd an' saw Sam's mule. + + An' de thought come slowly tricklin' thoo ma brain right der an' den, + Dat, perhaps, wid some persuasion, I could make dat mule ma fren'. + + An' I jes kep' on a-thinkin', an' I kep' a-lookin' 'roun', + Tel I spied two great big san' spurs right close by me on de groun'. + + Well, I took dem spurs an' put em underneat' o' Caesar's saddle, + So dey'd press down in his backbone soon ez Sam had got a-straddle. + + 'Twuz a pretty ticklish job, an' jes ez soon ez it wuz done, + I went back w'ere I wuz set'n fu' to wait an' see de fun. + + Purty soon heah come de people, jes a-swa'min' out de do', + Talkin' 'bout de "pow'ful sermon"--"nevah heah'd de likes befo'." + + How de "monahs fell convicted" jes de same ez lumps o' lead, + How dat some wuz still a-layin' same es if dey'd been struck dead. + + An' to rectly heah come Liza, Sam a-strollin' by her side, + An' it seem'd to me dat darky's smile wuz 'bout twelve inches wide. + + Look to me like he had swelled up to 'bout twice his natchul size, + An' I heah'd him say, "I'd like to be yo' 'scort to-night, Miss Lize." + + Den he made a bow jes like he's gwine to make a speech in school, + An' walk'd jes ez proud ez Marse John over to untie his mule, + + W'en Sam's foot fust touched de stirrup he know'd der wuz sump'n wrong; + 'Cuz de mule begin to tremble an' to sorter side along. + + Wen Sam raised his weight to mount him, Caesar bristled up his ear, + W'en Sam sot down in de saddle, den dat mule cummenced to rear. + + An' he reared an' pitched an' caper'd, only ez a mule kin pitch, + Tel he flung Sam clean f'om off him, landed him squar' in a ditch. + + Wen dat darky riz, well raly, I felt kinder bad fu' him; + He had bust dem cheap sto' britches f'om de center to de rim. + + All de plug hat dat wuz lef' him wuz de brim aroun' his neck, + Smear'd wid mud f'om top to bottom, well, he wuz a sight, I 'speck. + + Wuz de folks a-laffin'? Well, su', I jes sholy thought dey'd bus'; + Wuz Sam laffin'? 'Twuz de fus' time dat I evah heah'd him cuss. + + W'ile Sam slink'd off thoo de backwoods I walk'd slowly home wid Lize, + W'en I axed her jes one question der wuz sump'n in her eyes + + Made me know der wuz no need o' any answer bein' said, + An' I felt jes like de whole world wuz a-spinnin' 'roun' ma head. + + So I said, "Lize, w'en we marry, mus' I weah some sto'-bought clo'es?" + She says, "Jeans is good enough fu' any po' folks, heaben knows!" + + + + + _If homely virtues draw from me a tune + In happy jingle or a half-sad croon; + Or if the smoldering future should inspire + My hand to strike the seer's prophetic lyre; + Or if injustice, brutishness and wrong + Should make a blasting trumpet of my song; + O God, give beauty and strength--truth to my words, + Oh, may they fall like sweetly cadenced chords, + Or burn like beacon fires from out the dark, + Or speed like arrows, swift and sure, to the mark._ + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Fifty years & Other Poems, by James Weldon Johnson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTY YEARS & OTHER POEMS *** + +***** This file should be named 17884.txt or 17884.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/8/8/17884/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Sankar Viswanathan, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/17884.zip b/17884.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ae1bdda --- /dev/null +++ b/17884.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..02bed73 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #17884 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/17884) |
