MORNING

  The mist has left the greening plain,
  The dew-drops shine like fairy rain,
  The coquette rose awakes again
     Her lovely self adorning. 
  The Wind is hiding in the trees,
  A sighing, soothing, laughing tease,
  Until the rose says “Kiss me, please,”
  ’Tis morning, ’tis morning.

  With staff in hand and careless-free,
  The wanderer fares right jauntily,
  For towns and houses are, thinks he,
     For scorning, for scorning. 
  My soul is swift upon the wing,
  And in its deeps a song I bring;
  Come, Love, and we together sing,
     “’Tis morning, ’tis morning.”

THE AWAKENING

  I did not know that life could be so sweet,
  I did not know the hours could speed so fleet,
  Till I knew you, and life was sweet again. 
  The days grew brief with love and lack of pain—­

  I was a slave a few short days ago,
  The powers of Kings and Princes now I know;
  I would not be again in bondage, save
  I had your smile, the liberty I crave.

LOVE’S DRAFT

  The draft of love was cool and sweet
     You gave me in the cup,
  But, ah, love’s fire is keen and fleet,
     And I am burning up.

  Unless the tears I shed for you
     Shall quench this burning flame,
  It will consume me through and through,
     And leave but ash—­a name.

A MUSICAL

  Outside the rain upon the street,
    The sky all grim of hue,
  Inside, the music-painful sweet,
    And yet I heard but you.

  As is a thrilling violin,
    So is your voice to me,
  And still above the other strains,
    It sang in ecstasy.

TWELL DE NIGHT IS PAS’

  All de night long twell de moon goes down,
    Lovin’ I set at huh feet,
  Den fu’ de long jou’ney back f’om de town,
    Ha’d, but de dreams mek it sweet.

  All de night long twell de break of de day,
    Dreamin’ agin in my sleep,
  Mandy comes drivin’ my sorrers away,
    Axin’ me, “Wha’ fu’ you weep?”

  All de day long twell de sun goes down,
    Smilin’, I ben’ to my hoe,
  Fu’ dough de weddah git nasty an’ frown,
    One place I know I kin go.

  All my life long twell de night has pas’
    Let de wo’k come ez it will,
  So dat I fin’ you, my honey, at las’,
    Somewhaih des ovah de hill.

BLUE

  Standin’ at de winder,
    Feelin’ kind o’ glum,
  Listenin’ to de raindrops
    Play de kettle drum,
  Lookin’ crost de medders
    Swimmin’ lak a sea;
  Lawd ‘a’ mussy on us,
    What’s de good o’ me?

  Can’t go out a-hoein’,
    Wouldn’t ef I could;
  Groun’ too wet fu’ huntin’,
    Fishin’ ain’t no good. 
  Too much noise fo’ sleepin’,
    No one hyeah to chat;
  Des mus’ stan’ an’ listen
    To dat pit-a-pat.