I give my cordial endorsement to this little book of poems, because I believe it will do its part to awaken the Muse of Poetry which I am sure slumbers in very many of the sons and daughters of the race of which the author of this work is a representative.
The Negro’s right to be considered worthy of recognition in the field of poetic effort is not now gainsaid as formerly, and each succeeding effort but emphasizes his right to just consideration.
The hope, I have, is, that this volume of poems may fall among the critical and intelligent, who will accord the just meed of praise or of censure, to the end that further effort may be stimulated, no matter what the verdict.
The readers I trust will find as much to praise and admire as have I done.
Booker T. Washington , Prin. Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute.
Tuskegee, AL , December 6th, 1897 .
This little volume is launched on the doubtful sea of literature with the hope that the breezes of public opinion may give an impetus to its voyage. I hope that it will be kindly received as simply the harbinger of what may be expected from the generations to come; and shall consider its mission as being fulfilled if it should be the means of arousing and stimulating some of our youth to higher and greater efforts along this line.
Commending it to an intelligent and impartial criticism, I am, respectfully, The Author.
“The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament showeth his handiwork.”
“The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament showeth his handiwork.”
O Earth, adore creative power, That made and gave to man as dower, This world of beauty rare, With hills and vales of verdant green, With rills and brooks of crystal sheen, Lovely beyond compare.
O Sun, bright ruler of the day, When first thy power thou did’st display, Earth must have shrank in fear, When like a meteor burst thy light, Turning to day the long, long night, With radiance wondrous fair.
Thou Moon, pale sister of the Sun, When he his daily work has done, Thou comest forth a queen; A queen in silvery robe adorned, With tiara of jewels formed, Of starry orbs unseen.
Ye twinkling stars of milder light, Though now ye gleam like sapphires bright, Across yon azure dome, The day will dawn, that last dread day, When from yon heaven you’ll fall away, And man to Judgment come.
Thunder and Lightnings burst and gleam, Frightful and fierce to us they seem Rending the darkened sky. Like giants tread the thunder’s peal, The vivid lightnings swiftly steal, And men in terror fly.
With hands all reddened and sore, With back and shoulders low bent, She stands all day, and part of the night Till her strength is well-nigh spent. With her rub—rub—rub, And her wash, rinse, shake, Till the muscles start and the spirit sinks, And the bones begin to ache.