Poems - Michael Goodnight - Editor

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And I am black, but oh my soul is white!White as an angel is the English child,But I am black, as if bereaved of light.My mother taught me underneath a tree,And, sitting down before the heat of day,She took me on her lap and kissed me,And, pointed to the east, began to say:"Look on the rising sun: there God does live,And gives His light, and gives His heat away,And flowers and trees and beasts and men receiveComfort in morning, joy in the noonday."And we are put on earth a little space,That we may learn to bear the beams of loveAnd these black bodies and this sunburnt faceIs but a cloud, and like a shady grove."For when our souls have learn'd the heat to bear,The cloud will vanish, we shall hear His voice,Saying, 'Come out from the grove, my love and careAnd round my golden tent like lambs rejoice',"
Thus did my mother say, and kissed me;And thus I say to little English boy.When I from black and he from white cloud free,And round the tent of God like lambs we joyI'll shade him from the heat till he can bearTo lean in joy upon our Father's knee;And then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair,And be like him, and he will then love me.THE BLOSSOMMerry, merry sparrow!Under leaves so greenA happy blossomSees you, swift as arrow,Seek your cradle narrow,Near my bosom.Pretty, pretty robin!Under leaves so green
Page 3 and 4: For they know when their Shepherd i
Page 5: Gave thee clothing of delight,Softe
Page 9 and 10: And by came an angel, who had a bri
Page 11 and 12: And the dimpling stream runs laughi
Page 13 and 14: Thy Maker lay, and wept for me:Wept
Page 15 and 16: Grey-headed beadles walked before,
Page 17 and 18: Seeking to drive their thirst away,
Page 19 and 20: Merry voice,Infant noise;Merrily, m
Page 21 and 22: Pretty joy!Sweet joy, but two days
Page 24 and 25: He doth give his joy to all:He beco
Page 26 and 27: EARTH'S ANSWEREarth raised up her h
Page 28 and 29: Warbled out these metres meet:"Love
Page 30 and 31: Never fades away,Lovely Lyca lay.Se
Page 32 and 33: From his eyes of flame,Ruby tears t
Page 34 and 35: Smelling to his prey;But their fear
Page 36 and 37: They think they have done me no inj
Page 38 and 39: Till some blind handShall brush my
Page 40 and 41: Burnt the fire of thine eyes?On wha
Page 42 and 43: Where the Youth pined away with des
Page 44 and 45: But the Alehouse is healthy, and pl
Page 46 and 47: Pity would be no moreIf we did not
Page 48 and 49: I was angry with my friend:I told m
Page 50 and 51: The weeping parents wept in vain:Th
Page 52 and 53: All her tender limbs with terror sh
Page 54 and 55: When the blasts of winter appear?TO
Page 56 and 57:
And Jealousy a human face;Terror th
Page 58 and 59:
O life of this our spring! why fade
Page 60 and 61:
II.O little Cloud the virgin said,
Page 62 and 63:
Art thou a Worm? image of weakness,
Page 64:
She stood in silence, listning to t
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Poems - Michael Goodnight - Editor

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