#Americans #Blacks
'TWAS three an’ thirty year ago, I When I was ruther young, you kn… I had my last an’ only fight About a gal one summer night. 'Twas me an’ Zekel Johnson; Zeke
DO’ a—stan’in’ on a jar, fiah a—s… thoo, Ol’ folks drowsin’ 'roun’ de place… wide awake is Lou, W’en I tap, she answah, an’ I see
'SUNSHINE on de medders, Greenness on de way; Dat’s de blessed reason I sing all de day.' Look hyeah! Whut you axin’?
Bedtime 's come fu’ little boys. Po’ little lamb. Too tiahed out to make a noise, Po’ little lamb. You gwine t’ have to—morrer sho’?
‘GOOD-BYE,’ I said to my consc… ‘Good-bye for aye and aye,’ And I put her hands off harshly, And turned my face away; And conscience smitten sorely
De axes has been ringin’ in de woo… An’ de chips has been a—fallin’ fa… Dey has cut de bigges’ hick’ry dat… An’ dey’s laid hit down and soaked… Den dey tuk hit to de big house an…
BREEZES blowin’ middlin’ brisk, Snow-flakes thro’ the air a-whisk, Fallin’ kind o’ soft an’ light, Not enough to make things white, But jest sorter siftin’ down
See dis pictyah in my han’? Dat’s my gal; Ain’t she purty? goodness lan’! Huh name Sal. Dat’s de very way she be—
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
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…
How sweet the music sounded That summer long ago, When you were by my side, love, To list its gentle flow. I saw your eyes a—shining,
SWING yo’ lady roun’ an’ roun’, Do de bes’ you know; Mek yo’ bow an’ p’omenade Up an’ down de flo’; Mek dat banjo hump huhse’f,
October is the treasurer of the ye… And all the months pay bounty to h… The fields and orchards still thei… And fill her brimming coffers more… But she, with youthful lavishness,
Say a mass for my soul’s repose, m… Say a mass for my soul’s repose,… Lovingly lived we, the sons of one… Mine was the sin, but I pray you… Dark were her eyes as the sloe and…
I am the mother of sorrows, I am the ender of grief; I am the bud and the blossom, I am the late—falling leaf. I am thy priest and thy poet,
