Then with my burden on my back
    I turned to gaze awhile,
  First at the uninviting track,
    Then at the water’s smile.

  And so I go upon my way,
    Thro’out the sultry years,
  But pause no more, by night, by day,
    Beside the Fount of Tears.

LIFE’S TRAGEDY

  It may be misery not to sing at all
    And to go silent through the brimming day. 
  It may be sorrow never to be loved,
    But deeper griefs than these beset the way.

  To have come near to sing the perfect song
    And only by a half-tone lost the key,
  There is the potent sorrow, there the grief,
    The pale, sad staring of life’s tragedy.

  To have just missed the perfect love,
    Not the hot passion of untempered youth,
  But that which lays aside its vanity
    And gives thee, for thy trusting worship, truth—­

  This, this it is to be accursed indeed;
    For if we mortals love, or if we sing,
  We count our joys not by the things we have,
    But by what kept us from the perfect thing.

DE WAY T’INGS COME

  De way t’ings come, hit seems to me,
  Is des’ one monst’ous mystery;
  De way hit seem to strike a man,
  Dey ain’t no sense, dey ain’t no plan;
  Ef trouble sta’ts a pilin’ down,
  It ain’t no use to rage er frown,
  It ain’t no use to strive er pray,
  Hit’s mortal boun’ to come dat way.

  Now, ef you ‘s hongry, an’ yo’ plate
  Des’ keep on sayin’ to you, “Wait,”
  Don’t mek no diffunce how you feel,
  ’T won’t do no good to hunt a meal,
  Fu’ dat ah meal des’ boun’ to hide
  Ontwell de devil’s satisfied,
  An’ ’twell dey’s some’p’n by to cyave
  You ‘s got to ease yo’se’f an’ sta’ve.

  But ef dey ’s co’n meal on de she’f
  You need n’t bothah ‘roun’ yo’se’f,
  Somebody’s boun’ to amble in
  An’ ’vite you to dey co’n meal bin;
  An’ ef you ’s stuffed up to be froat
  Wid co’n er middlin’, fowl er shoat,
  Des’ look out an’ you ‘ll see fu’ sho
  A ‘possum faint befo’ yo’ do’.

  De way t’ings happen, huhuh, chile,
  Dis worl’ ’s done puzzled me one w’ile;
  I ’s mighty skeered I ’ll fall in doubt,
  I des’ won’t try to reason out
  De reason why folks strive an’ plan
  A dinnah fu’ a full-fed man,
  An’ shet de do’ an’ cross de street
  F’om one dat raaly needs to eat.

NOON

  Shadder in de valley
  Sunlight on de hill,
  Sut’ny wish dat locus’
  Knowed how to be still. 
  Don’t de heat already
  Mek a body hum,
  ‘Dout dat insec’ sayin’
  Hottah days to come?

  Fiel’ ‘s a shinin’ yaller
  Wid de bendin’ grain,
  Guinea hen a callin’,
  Now’s de time fu’ rain;
  Shet yo’ mouf, you rascal,
  Wha’ ’s de use to cry? 
  You do’ see no rain clouds
  Up dah in de sky.