Countee Cullen

“ Sap road of a maple tree, whose leaves
Grow music as they grow, since your
Wild voice is in them, a harp that grieves
For life that opens death’s dark door.
Though dust, your fingers still can push
The Vision Splendid to a birth,
Though now they work as grass in the hush
Of the night on the broad sweet page of the earth. ”

“ To save the creature man."
"And men to come will curse your name,
And hold you up to scorn;
In all the world will be no shame
Like yours; this is love's thorn.
It takes strong will of heart and soul,
But man is under ban. ”

“ Wisdom Cometh With
the Years
NOW I am young and credulous,
My heart is quick to bleed
At courage in the tremulous
Slow sprouting of a seed.
Now I am young and sensitive,
Man's lack can stab me through ”

“ Whose clash the hemmed-in vale with clamor fills, [31]
With greater din contended fierce majestic wills
Of beast with beast, of man with man, in strife
For love of what my heart despised, for life
That unto me at dawn was now a prayer
For night, at night a bloody heart-wrung tear
For day again; for this, these groans
From tangled flesh and interlockèd bones.
And no thing died that did not give
A testimony that it longed to live.
Man, strange composite blend of brute and god,
Pushed on, nor backward glanced where last he trod. ”

“ More free than all your flags unfurled,
I give my body to be burned.
I mount my cross because I will,
I drink the hemlock which you give
For wine which you withhold—and still,
Because I will not die, I live. ”

“ In opulence its frugal meed of friends.
Let neither lose his faith, lest by such loss
Each find insufferable his daily cross.
And be not less immovable to me,
Not less love-leal and staunch, than my heart is. ”

“ And limbs like apple boughs that sway
When the gusty rain winds beat?
And how would I thrive in a perfect place
Where dancing would be sin,
With not a man to love my face,
Nor an arm to hold me in?
The seraphs and the cherubim
Would be too proud to bend
To sing the faery tunes that brim
My heart from end to end. ”

“ Must face the Thing
We cannot fly.
Yea, though we fling
Our notes to the sun,
Time will outsing
Us every one.
All things must change
As the wind is blown;
Time will estrange
The flesh from the bone. ”

“ Soul:THERE is no stronger thing than song;
In sun and rain and leafy trees
Soul:It wafts the timid soul along
Soul:On crested waves of melodies.
Body:But leaves the body bare to feed
Body:Its hunger with its very need. ”

“ To do a naked tribal dance
Each time he hears the rain?
Why should she think it devil's art
That all my songs should be
Of love and lovers, broken heart,
And wild sweet agony?
Who plants a seed begets a bud,
Extract of that same root ”

“ And see no better way,
Bless these who turn the other cheek
For love of you, and pray.
Our Father, God, our Brother, Christ—
So are we taught to pray;
Their kinship seems a little thing
Who sorrow all the day. ”

“ My heart was still a pool of bitterness,
Would yield nought else, nought else confess.
I spoke (although no form was there
To see, I knew an ear was there to hear) ,
“Well, let them fight; they can whose flesh is fair.” ”

“ Have washed, whose bare brown thighs have held the sun
Incarcerate until his course was run,
I who considered man a high-perfected
Glass where loveliness could lie reflected,
Now that I sway athwart Truth's deep abyss,
Denuding man for what he was and is,
Shall breath and being so inveigle me
That I can damn my dreams to hell, and be
Content, each new-born day, anew to see
The steaming crimson vintage of my youth
Incarnadine the altar-slab of Truth? ”

“ And the hills are weird with light.
The great dark heart is like a well
Drained bitter by the sky,
And all the honeyed lies they tell
Come there to thirst and die.
No lie is strong enough to kill
The roots that work below;
From your rich dust and slaughtered will
A tree with tongues will grow.
[100] To My Friends
YOU feeble few that hold me somewhat more
Than all I am ”

“ BORN of the sorrowful of heart,
Mirth was a crown upon his head;
Pride kept his twisted lips apart
In jest, to hide a heart that bled.
[71] For Joseph Conrad
NOT of the dust, but of the wave
His final couch should be;
They lie not easy in a grave
Who once have known the sea.
How shall earth’s meagre bed enthrall
The hardiest seaman of them all?
[72] For Myself
WHAT’S in this grave is worth your tear ”

“ Crowned with dark rebellious hair,
Patience wavers just so much as
Mortal grief compels, while touches
Quick and hot, of anger, rise
To smitten cheek and weary eyes.
Lord, forgive me if my need
Sometimes shapes a human creed. ”

“ Who gave young Christ heart, soul, and limb,
And all the love he had.
[95] The Wise (For Alain Locke)
DEAD men are wisest, for they know
How far the roots of flowers go,
How long a seed must rot to grow.
Dead men alone bear frost and rain
On throbless heart and heatless brain,
And feel no stir of joy or pain.
Dead men alone are satiate ”

“ If You Should Go
LOVE, leave me like the light,
The gently passing day;
We would not know, but for the night,
When it has slipped away.
Go quietly; a dream,
When done, should leave no trace
That it has lived, except a gleam
Across the dreamer’s face. ”

“ Yet do I marvel at this curious thing:
To make a poet black, and bid him sing! ”

“ And the most I’ve won for all my pains
Is a century of purgatory.
[60] For a Fool
ON earth the wise man makes the rules,
And is the fool’s adviser,
But here the wise are as the fools,
(And no man is the wiser) . ”

“ And so I smiled, but he poked out
His tongue, and called me, “Nigger.” ”

“ From the scenes his fathers loved,
Spicy grove, cinnamon tree,
What is Africa to me? ”

“ And felt my heart forebear, my pulse grow still.”
[6] A Brown Girl Dead
WITH two white roses on her breasts,
White candles at head and feet,
Dark Madonna of the grave she rests;
Lord Death has found her sweet.
Her mother pawned her wedding ring
To lay her out in white;
She’d be so proud she’d dance and sing
To see herself tonight.
[7] To a Brown Girl (For Roberta)
WHAT if his glance is bold and free,
His mouth the lash of whips? ”

“ My spirit has come home, that sailed the doubtful seas.” ”