Produced by Judith Boss
Poems
By
The Black Heritage Library Collection
First Published 1895
Whereas thou hast been forsaken and hated, so that no man went through thee, I will make thee an eternal excellency, a joy of many generations. ISAIAH 60:15.
My Mother's Kiss . . . . . . . . . . 1
A Grain of Sand . . . . . . . . . . 3
The Crocuses . . . . . . . . . . . . 4
The Present Age . . . . . . . . . . 6
Dedication Poem . . . . . . . . . . 9
A Double Standard . . . . . . . . . 12
Our Hero . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
The Dying Bondman . . . . . . . . . 17
A Little Child Shall Lead Them . . . 19
The Sparrow's Fall . . . . . . . . . 21
God Bless Our Native Land . . . . . 23
Dandelions . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24
The Building . . . . . . . . . . . . 25
Home, Sweet Home . . . . . . . . . . 26
The Pure in Heart Shall See God . . 28
He Had Not Where to Lay His Head . . 30
Go Work in My Vineyard . . . . . . . 31
Renewal of Strength . . . . . . . . 33
Jamie's Puzzle . . . . . . . . . . . 34
Truth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
Death of the Old Sea King . . . . . 38
Save the Boys . . . . . . . . . . . 40
Nothing and Something . . . . . . . 42
Vashti . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44
Thank God for Little Children . . . 47
The Martyr of Alabama . . . . . . . 49
The Night of Death . . . . . . . . . 53
Mother's Treasures . . . . . . . . . 56
The Refiner's Gold . . . . . . . . . 58
A Story of the Rebellion . . . . . . 60
Burial of Sarah . . . . . . . . . . 61
Going East . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63
The Hermit's Sacrifice . . . . . . . 66
Songs for the People . . . . . . . . 69
Let the Light Enter . . . . . . . . 71
An Appeal to My Country Women . . . 72
My mother's kiss, my mother's kiss,
I feel its impress now;
As in the bright and happy days
She pressed it on my brow.
You say it is a fancied thing
Within my memory fraught;
To me it has a sacred place—
The treasure house of thought.
Again, I feel her fingers glide
Amid my clustering hair;
I see the love-light in her eyes,
When all my life was fair.
Again, I hear her gentle voice
In warning or in love.
How precious was the faith that taught
My soul of things above.
(1)
The music of her voice is stilled,
Her lips are paled in death.
As precious pearls I'll clasp her words
Until my latest breath.
The world has scattered round my path
Honor and wealth and fame;
But n