To John Keats, Poet, At Spring Time (Countee Cullen Poems)
I cannot hold my peace, John Keats; There never was a spring like this; It is an echo, that repeats ...
I cannot hold my peace, John Keats; There never was a spring like this; It is an echo, that repeats ...
They in their cruel traps, and we in ours, Survey each other's rage, and pass the hours Commiserating each the ...
The many sow, but only the chosen reap; Happy the wretched host if Day be brief, That with the cool ...
Wherein are words sublime or noble? What Invests one speech with haloed eminence, Makes it the sesame for all doors ...
And what would I do in heaven pray,Me with my dancing feet?And limbs like apple boughs that swayWhen the gusty ...
Never love with all your heart,It only ends in aching;And bit by bit to the smallest partThat organ will be ...
White folks is white, says uncle Jim; "A platitude," I sneer; And then I tell him so is milk, And ...
Along the shore the tall thin grass,That fringes that dark river,While sinuously soft feet passBeings to bleed and quiver.The great ...
Since men grow diffident at last,And care no whit at all,If spring be come, or the fall be past,Or how ...
I have a rendezvous with Life,In days I hope will come,Ere youth has sped, and strength of mind,Ere voices sweet ...
Locked arm in arm they cross the wayThe black boy and the white,The golden splendor of the dayThe sable pride ...
That brown girl's swagger gives a twitchTo beauty like a Queen,Lad, never damn your body's itchWhen loveliness is seen.For there ...
What if his glance is bold and free,His mouth the lash of whips?So should the eyes of lovers beAnd so ...
Then call me traitor if you must, Shout reason and default! Say I betray a sacred trust Aching beyond this ...
I doubt not God is good, well-meaning, kind And did He stoop to quibble could tell why The little buried ...
He never spoke a word to me, And yet He called my name; He never gave a sign to me, ...
That bright chimeric beast Conceived yet never born, Save in the poet's breast, The white-flanked unicorn, Never may be shaken ...
All through an empty place I go, And find her not in any room; The candles and the lamps I ...
"Lord, being dark," I said, "I cannot bear The further touch of earth, the scented air; Lord, being dark, forewilled ...
Dead men are wisest, for they know How far the roots of flowers go, How long a seed must rot ...
We shall not always plant while others reap The golden increment of bursting fruit, Not always countenance, abject and mute, ...
My father is a quiet man With sober, steady ways; For simile, a folded fan; His nights are like his ...
What is Africa to me: Copper sun or scarlet sea, Jungle star or jungle track, Strong bronzed men, or regal ...
Once riding in old Baltimore, Heart-filled, head-filled with glee; I saw a Baltimorean Keep looking straight at me. Now I ...
Some are teethed on a silver spoon, With the stars strung for a rattle; I cut my teeth as the ...
With two white roses on her breasts, White candles at head and feet, Dark Madonna of the grave she rests; ...
She even thinks that up in heaven Her class lies late and snores While poor black cherubs rise at seven ...
I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth, And laid them away in a box of gold; Where long ...
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