Page:The book of American negro poetry.djvu/139

Rh The law of downward pull;—and I am more: The bitter fruit am I of planted seed; The resultant, the inevitable end Of evil forces and the powers of wrong.


 * Lessons in degradation, taught and learned,

The memories of cruel sights and deeds, The pent-up bitterness, the unspent hate Filtered through fifteen generations have Sprung up and found in me sporadic life. In me the muttered curse of dying men, On me the stain of conquered women, and Consuming me the fearful fires of lust, Lit long ago, by other hands than mine. In me the down-crushed spirit, the hurled-back prayers Of wretches now long dead,—their dire bequests,— In me the echo of the stifled cry Of children for their bartered mothers' breasts.


 * I claim no race, no race claims me; I am

No more than human dregs; degenerate; The monstrous offspring of the monster. Sin; I am—just what I am The race that fed Your wives and nursed your babes would do the same To-day, but I— Enough, the brute must die! Quick! Chain him to that oak! It will resist The fire much longer than this slender pine. Now bring the fuel! Pile it 'round him! Wait! Pile not so fast or high! or we shall lose The agony and terror in his face.