From your life’s blood to coin a t… The past, the present and the futu… To hold—and weave it to a ringing… That sounds within the changing he…

Out of the silence I come to you, Bringing a love Free as the dew. I come and sing

Day passeth day in sunshine or sha… Night unto night each cycle is tol… Sun, moon and stars in whirling an… All unto all the creation unfold. What of the strivings, what of the…

Sunless days and starless nights Bearing fruits of wrack and pain, Purge my lips of lover’s vows, Bid me never hope again. Yet the longing of my soul,

I am so tired and weary, So tired of the endless fight, So weary of waiting the dawn And finding endless night. That I ask but rest and quiet—

Forget? Ah, never! Your eyes, your voice, your lips. Those little ways of love, Half-childish yet all-wise

The burnished glow of the old-gold… Shines brightly over me. A thousand stars, like a thousand… In a dark and placid sea, Bring memories of a golden night,

I know not why or whence he came Or how he chanced to go; I only know he brought me love, And going, left me woe. I do not ask that he turn back

Why do men smile when I speak, And call my speech The whimperings of a babe That cries but knows not what it w… Is it because I am black?

Never again the sight of her? Never her winsome smile Shall light the path of my journey… O’er many a weary mile? Never again shall her soft voice c…

The little child crosses the stree… Why does she wave to me? What sees she in my wasted form To hail so joyously? Her olive face and curly hair

The band of Gideon roam the sky, The howling wind is their war-cry, The thunder roll is their trump’s… And the lightning flash their veng… Each black cloud

As I lie in bed, Flat on my back; There passes across my ceiling An endless panaroma of things— Quick steps of gay-voiced children…

Old memories come trooping down The vistas of the years; In blue-girt robes of pleasure cla… Or garbed in tears. Down from the days when hope was y…

Old November, sere and brown, Clothes the country, haunts the to… Sheds its cloak of withered leaves… Brings its sighing, soughing breez… Prophet of the dying year,