Page:The weary blues - 1926.djvu/26

 I am a Negro: Black as the night is black, Black like the depths of my Africa.

I've been a slave: Cæsar told me to keep his door-steps clean. I brushed the boots of Washington.

I've been a worker: Under my hand the pyramids arose. I made mortar for the Woolworth Building.

I've been a singer: All the way from Africa to Georgia I carried my sorrow songs. I made ragtime.

I've been a victim: The Belgians cut off my hands in the Congo. They lynch me now in Texas.

I am a Negro: Black as the night is black, Black like the depths of my Africa.