deliberation and joy. Then along that river, a thousand miles, With growing lean. There, where the wild ghost-gods had In a rather wailed A million boats of the angels sailed With oars of silver, and prows of blue And silken pennants that the sun shone through. 'Twas a land transfigured, 'twas a new creation. Oh, a singing wind swept the negro nation; And on through the backwoods clearing flew : 'Mumbo-Jumbo is dead in the jungle. Never again will he hoo-doo you. Never again will he hoo-doo you." Redeemed were the forests, the beasts and the men, And only the vulture dared again By the far, lone mountains of the moon high key as delicately as possible. whisper. TO A GOLDEN HAIRED GIRL IN A LOUISIANA TOWN You are a sunrise, If a star should rise instead of the sun. You are a moonrise, If a star should come in the place of the moon. You are the Spring, If a face should bloom instead of an apple-bough. You are my love, If your heart is as kind As your young eyes now. THE TRAVELLER The moon's a devil jester Sometimes he is in my heart— O traveller, abiding not A NEGRO SERMON:-SIMON LEGREE Legree's big house was white and green. He had strong horses and opulent cattle, And bloodhounds bold, with chains that would rattle. And rabbits' feet on long twine strings. Legree, he sported a brass-buttoned coat, To mash poor niggers that told him lies: He wore hip-boots, and would wade all day. He beat poor Uncle Tom to death Who prayed for Legree with his last breath. Then Uncle Tom to Eva flew, To the high sanctoriums bright and new; And cracked his heels, and ground his teeth: He crossed the yard in the storm and gloom; His lamp blew out, but his eyes burned bright. Simon Legree stepped down all night Down, down to the Devil. Simon Legree he reached the place, He saw one half of the human race, He saw the Devil on a wide green throne, Gnawing the meat from a big ham-bone, And he said to Mister Devil: "I see that you have much to eat- And the Devil said to Simon Legree: And there they sit and gnash their teeth, He eats the fire, he drinks the wine- Down, down with the Devil; Down, down with the Devil; Down, down with the Devil. 1 ABRAHAM LINCOLN WALKS AT MIDNIGHT * 1 (In Springfield, Illinois) It is portentous, and a thing of state *See pages 51, 114, 123, 245, 252, 323. Reprinted by permission of the publishers, The Macmillan Company, from The Chinese Nightingale and Other Poems by Vachel Lindsay. |