1. In the life of everyone there is a limited number of experiences which are not written upon the memory, but stamped there with a die; and in the long years after, they can be called up in detail, and every emotion that was stirred by them can be lived through anew; these are the tragedies of life.
The Autobiography of an Ex-Coloured Man
2. The AwakeningI dreamed that I was a roseThat grew beside a lonely way,Close by a path none ever chose,And there I lingered day by day.Beneath the sunshine and the show’rI grew and waited there apart,Gathering perfume hour by hour,And storing it within my heart,Yet, never knew,Just why I waited there and grew.I dreamed that you were a beeThat one day gaily flew along,You came across the hedge to me,And sang a soft, love-burdened song.You brushed my petals with a kiss,I woke to gladness with a start,And yielded up to you in blissThe treasured fragrance of my heart;And then I knewThat I had waited there for you.
Complete Poems
