Page:Claude McKay Constab Ballads.djvu/66



hatred without an’ ’tis hatred within,

An’ I am so weary an’ sad;

For all t’rough de tempest o’ terrible strife

Dere’s not’in’ to make poor me glad.

Oh! where are de faces I loved in de past,

De frien’s dat I used to hold dear?

Oh say, have dey all turned away from me now

Becausen de red seam I wear?

I foolishly wandered away from dem all

To dis life of anguish an’ woe,

Where I mus’ be hard on me own kith an’ kin,

And even to frien’ mus’ prove foe.

Oh! what have I gained from my too too rash act

O’ joinin’ a hard Constab Force,

Save quenchin’ me thirst from a vinegar cup,

De vinegar cup o’ remorse?

I t’ought of a livin’ o’ pure honest toil,

To keep up dis slow-ebbin’ breath;

But no, de life surely is bendin’ me do’n,

Is bendin’ me do’n to de death.