Poetry, James Weldon Johnson [best romance books of all time .TXT] 📗

Den I know’d to win dat gal, I sho would need some othah means
’Sides a-hangin’ ’round big meetin’ in a suit o’ homespun jeans.

W’en dey blow’d de ho’n fu’ preachin’, an’ de crowd all went inside,
I jes felt ez doh I’d like tah go off in de woods an’ hide.

So I stay’d outside de meetin’, set’n underneat’ de trees,
Seemed to me I sot der ages, wid ma elbows on ma knees.

W’en dey sung dat hymn, “Nobody knows de trouble dat I see,”
Seem’d to me dat dey wuz singin’ eveh word o’ it fu’ me.

Jes how long I might ha’ sot der, actin’ like a cussed fool,
I don’t know, but it jes happen’d dat I look’d an’ saw Sam’s mule.

An’ de thought come slowly tricklin’ thoo ma brain right der an’ den,
Dat, perhaps, wid some persuasion, I could make dat mule ma fren’.

An’ I jes kep’ on a-thinkin’, an’ I kep’ a-lookin’ ’roun’,
Tel I spied two great big san’ spurs right close by me on de groun’.

Well, I took dem spurs an’ put em underneat’ o’ Caesar’s saddle,
So dey’d press down in his backbone soon ez Sam had got a-straddle.

’Twuz a pretty ticklish job, an’ jes ez soon ez it wuz done,
I went back w’ere I wuz set’n fu’ to wait an’ see de fun.

Purty soon heah come de people, jes a-swa’min’ out de do’,
Talkin’ ’bout de “pow’ful sermon”⁠—“nevah heah’d de likes befo’.”

How de “monahs fell convicted” jes de same ez lumps o’ lead,
How dat some wuz still a-layin’ same es if dey’d been struck dead.

An’ to rectly heah come Liza, Sam a-strollin’ by her side,
An’ it seem’d to me dat darky’s smile wuz ’bout twelve inches wide.

Look to me like he had swelled up to ’bout twice his natchul size,
An’ I heah’d him say, “I’d like to be yo’ ’scort to-night, Miss Lize.”

Den he made a bow jes like he’s gwine to make a speech in school,
An’ walk’d jes ez proud ez Marse John over to untie his mule,

W’en Sam’s foot fust touched de stirrup he know’d der wuz sump’n wrong;
’Cuz de mule begin to tremble an’ to sorter side along.

Wen Sam raised his weight to mount him, Caesar bristled up his ear,
W’en Sam sot down in de saddle, den dat mule cummenced to rear.

An’ he reared an’ pitched an’ caper’d, only ez a mule kin pitch,
Tel he flung Sam clean f’om off him, landed him squar’ in a ditch.

Wen dat darky riz, well raly, I felt kinder bad fu’ him;
He had bust dem cheap sto’ britches f’om de center to de rim.

All de plug hat dat wuz lef’ him wuz de brim aroun’ his neck,
Smear’d wid mud f’om top to bottom, well, he wuz a sight, I ’speck.

Wuz de folks a-laffin’? Well, su’, I jes sholy thought dey’d bus’;
Wuz Sam laffin’? ’Twuz de fus’ time dat I evah heah’d him cuss.

W’ile Sam slink’d off thoo de backwoods I walk’d slowly home wid Lize,
W’en I axed her jes one question der wuz sump’n in her eyes

Made me know der wuz no need o’ any answer bein’ said,
An’ I felt jes like de whole world wuz a-spinnin’ ’roun’ ma head.

So I said, “Lize, w’en we marry, mus’ I weah some sto’-bought clo’es?”
She says, “Jeans is good enough fu’ any po’ folks, heaben knows!”

(A Negro Sermon)

And God stepped out on space,
And He looked around and said,
“I’m lonely⁠—
I’ll make me a world.”

And far as the eye of God could see
Darkness covered everything,
Blacker than a hundred midnights
Down in a cypress swamp.

Then God smiled,
And the light broke,
And the darkness rolled up on one side,
And the light stood shining on the other,
And God said, “That’s good!”

Then God reached out and took the light in His hands,
And God rolled the light around in His hands
Until He made the sun;
And He set that sun a-blazing in the heavens.
And the light that was left from making the sun
God gathered it up in a shining ball
And flung it against the darkness,
Spangling the night with the moon and stars.
Then down between
The darkness and the light
He hurled the world;
And God said, “That’s good!”

Then God himself stepped down⁠—
And the sun was on His right hand,
And the moon was on His left;
The stars were clustered about His head,
And the earth was under His feet.
And God walked, and where He trod
His footsteps hollowed the valleys out
And bulged the mountains up.

Then He stopped and looked and saw
That the earth was hot and barren.
So God stepped over to the edge of the world
And He spat out the seven seas;
He batted His eyes, and the lightnings flashed;
He clapped His hands, and the thunders rolled;
And the waters above the earth came down,
The cooling waters came down.

Then the green grass sprouted,
And the little red flowers blossomed,
The pine tree pointed his finger to the sky,
And the oak spread out his arms,
The lakes cuddled down in the hollows of the ground,
And the rivers ran down to the sea;
And God smiled again,
And the rainbow appeared,
And curled itself around His shoulder.

Then God raised His arm and He waved His hand
Over the sea and over the land,
And He said, “Bring forth! Bring forth!”
And quicker than God could drop His hand,
Fishes and fowls
And beasts and birds
Swam the rivers and the seas,
Roamed the forests and the woods,
And split the air with their wings.
And God said, “That’s good!”

Then God walked around,
And God looked around
On all that He had made.
He looked at His sun,
And He looked at His moon,
And He looked at His little stars;
He looked on His world
With all its living things,
And God said, “I’m lonely still.”

Then God sat down
On the side of a hill where He could think;
By a deep, wide river He sat down;
With His head in His hands,
God thought and thought,
Till He thought, “I’ll make me a man!”

Up from the bed of the river
God scooped the clay;
And by the bank of the river
He kneeled Him down;
And there the great God Almighty
Who lit the sun and fixed it in the sky,
Who flung the stars to the