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?

I plucked a rose from out a bower… That overhung my garden seat; And wondered I if, e’er before, b… A rose so sweet. Enwrapt in beauty I scarce felt t…

O why are there eyes like these, That sparkle and dapple and tease, So wide with the morning, so deep… Dancing and gleaming in passioned… O why are there eyes like these?

And Thou art One—One with th’ et… And with the flaming stars, and wi… Translucent, cold. The sentinel o… That clothes the sky in robes of l… The earth with warmth, the floweri…

Old Moloch walks the way tonight On Flander’s poppied field, Where foe meets foe in steel and m… And never one shall yield. Old Moloch of the fiery shrine,

Brother, come! And let us go unto our God. And when we stand before Him I shall say— “Lord, I do not hate,

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…

On such a day as this I think, On such a day as this, When earth and sky and nature’s wh… Are clad in April’s bliss; And balmy zephyrs gently waft

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

Never shall I die While this untrammeled spirit-mine Shall in hope’s constellation shin… And faith-embraced my soul shall l…

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,

O, Little David, play on your har… That ivory harp with the golden st… And sing as you did in Jewry Land… Of the Prince of Peace and the G… And the coming Christ Immanuel.

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

I’m a-waiting and a-watching for t… For the sun that’s ever shining, f… For the light that casts no shadow… For the rose that’s ever blooming… I’m a-waiting and a watching for t…

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—