Page:The book of American negro poetry.djvu/65

Rh And never more shall leaves come forth
 * On a bough that bears the ban;

I am burned with dread, I am dried and dead,
 * From the curse of a guiltless man.

And ever the judge rides by, rides by,
 * And goes to hunt the deer,

And ever another rides his soul
 * In the guise of a mortal fear.

And ever the man he rides me hard,
 * And never a night stays he;

For I feel his curse as a haunted bough
 * On the trunk of a haunted tree.