- 1. To John Keats, Poet, At Spring Time
I cannot hold my peace, John Keats;
There never was a spring like this;
It is an echo, that repeats
My last year's song and next year's bliss.
...
- 2. To Certain Critics
Then call me traitor if you must,
Shout reason and default!
Say I betray a sacred trust
Aching beyond this vault.
...
- 3. Heritage
What is Africa to me:
Copper sun or scarlet sea,
Jungle star or jungle track,
Strong bronzed men, or regal black
...
- 4. To A Brown Boy
That brown girl's swagger gives a twitch
To beauty like a Queen,
Lad, never damn your body's itch
When loveliness is seen.
...
- 5. Yet Do I Marvel
I doubt not God is good, well-meaning, kind
And did He stoop to quibble could tell why
The little buried mole continues blind,
Why flesh that mirrors Him must some day die,
...
- 6. Simon The Cyrenian Speaks
He never spoke a word to me,
And yet He called my name;
He never gave a sign to me,
And yet I knew and came.
...
- 7. The Shroud Of Color
"Lord, being dark," I said, "I cannot bear
The further touch of earth, the scented air;
Lord, being dark, forewilled to that despair
My color shrouds me in, I am as dirt
...
- 8. That Bright Chimeric Beast
That bright chimeric beast
Conceived yet never born,
Save in the poet's breast,
The white-flanked unicorn,
...
- 9. Song In Spite Of Myself
Never love with all your heart,
It only ends in aching;
And bit by bit to the smallest part
That organ will be breaking.
...