Short Poems

YOUNG BLACKS DEMONSTRATING IN FRONT OF THE COUNTY COURTHOUSE
IN THE SILENT PORTICO THE ELDERS WATCH

It was Spring, the sweet Spring, when first I met with Love.
Suddenly I raised my eyes; and he stood there.
He was so beautiful, I could not look elsewhere.
For joy I could not speak; I gazed but could not move;
But all my body trembled, as he spoke and stole,
With his voice's wonder, my surrendered soul.
Ah, why was there none nigh, to whisper me, Beware?

(street talk)
Soon's I get
2 dimes
back to back,

there's Mr. Bones
knocking!
the black God.

Another small
universe of Adam
enters
on the great page
and shines

Bubeleh,
if you will be
good-natured,
I can be
wise.

'T IS done; I yield; adieu, thou cruel fair;
Adieu, th' averted face, th' ungracious check;
I go to die, to finish all my care,
To hang — To hang? — Yes, — round another's neck.

In prose and in metre will Tom still compose;
But in writing he seems to lie under a curse;
For he constantly puts too much verse in his prose,
And as constantly puts too much prose in his verse.

Tom , you should take a wife — Now love forbid!
I found you one last night. — The devil you did!
Softly; perhaps she'll please you. — Oh, of course!
Fifteen. — Alarming! — Witty. — Nay, that's worse!
Discreet. — All show! — Handsome — To lure the fellows!
High-born. — Ay, haughty! — Tender-hearted. — Jealous!
Talents o'erflowing. — Ay, enough to sluice me!
And then, Tom, such a fortune! — Introduce me .

A SLAVE was I, a shape uneven,
A pauper, and the friend of heaven.

Another

A SLAVE was I, with soul and shape at odds,
Poor, and beloved of the immortal gods.

A FLOWERY crown will I compose,
I'll weave the crocus, weave the rose;
I'll weave narcissus, newly wet,
The hyacinth and violet;
And myrtle shall supply me green,
And lilies laugh in light between:
That the rich tendrils of my beauty's hair
May burst into their crowning flowers, and light the painted air.