#Americans #Blacks
GRASS commence a—comin’ Thoo de thawin’ groun’, Evah bird dat whistles Keepin’ noise erroun’; Cain’t sleep in de mo’nin’,
IF the muse were mine to tempt it And my feeble voice were strong, If my tongue were trained to measu… I would sing a stirring song. I would sing a song heroic
AN old worn harp that had been pl… Till all its strings were loose an… Joy, Hate and Fear, each one essa… To play. But each in turn had fou… No sweet responsiveness of sound
WHY fades a dream? An iridescent ray Flecked in between the tryst Of night and day. Why fades a dream? —
This is the debt I pay Just for one riotous day, Years of regret and grief, Sorrow without relief. Pay it I will to the end —
She sang, and I listened the whol… (It was sweet, so sweet, the singi… The stars were out and the moon it… From a wee soft glimmer way out in… To a bird thro’ the heavens wingin…
W’EN us fellers stomp around, mak… Gramma says, 'There’s certain tim… W’en they need a shingle or the so… She says 'we’re a—itchin’ for a ri… An’ she says, 'Now thes you wait,
Thou art my lute, by thee I sing,… My being is attuned to thee. Thou settest all my words a—wing, And meltest me to melody. Thou art my life, by thee I live,
TUSKEGEE, ALA., APRIL 22,… Not to the midnight of the gloomy… Do we revert to—day; we look upon The golden present and the future… Whose vistas show us visions of th…
I DID not know that life could b… I did not know the hours could spe… Till I knew you, and life was swe… The days grew brief with love and… I was a slave a few short days ago…
PLACE this bunch of mignonette In her cold, dead hand; When the golden sun is set, Where the poplars stand, Bury her from sun and day,
I HAD not known before Forever was so long a word. The slow stroke of the clock of ti… I had not heard. 'Tis hard to learn so late;
How shall I woo thee to win thee,… Say in what tongue shall I tell o… I who was fearless so timid have g… All that was eagle has turned into… The path from the meadow that lead…
COME away to dreamin’ town, Mandy Lou, Mandy Lou, Whaih de skies don’ nevah frown, Mandy Lou; Whaih de streets is paved with gol…
OH, the poets may sing of their L… And may rave in their rhymes about… But I throw my poetical wings to… And soar in a song to my Lady Lou… A sweet little maid, who is dearer…