Page:Negro poets and their poems (IA negropoetstheirp00kerl).pdf/274

252 Your ears have heard the din of war, The martial tramp of feet, Your voice has risen to your God In supplications sweet. May angels kiss each furrowed scar Upon your brow where care has trod. God bless the hands all withered now By age and weary care. God rest the feet that sought the way To freedom bright and fair. God bless thy life and e’er endow Thee with new strength each new-born day. —Mae Smith Johnson.

The sweetest charm of all the earth Came into being with her birth. All that without her we would lack She is in purity and black. The pansy and the violet, The dark of all the flowers met And gave their wealth of color in The sable beauty of her skin. Glad winds of evening are her face, Gentle with love and rich in grace; The blazing splendors of her eyes Are jewels from the midnight skies. Her hair—the darkness caught and curled, The ancient wonder of the world— Seems, in its strange, uncertain length, A constant crown of queenly strength.