The key to all strange things is in thy heart..../ My spirit has come home, that sailed the doubtful seas.
The loss of love is a terrible thing; They lie who say that death is worse.
Whatever lives is granted breath But by the grace and sufferance of Death.
I doubt not God is good, well-meaning, kind
If I am going to be a poet at all, I am going to be POET and not NEGRO POET.
Not for myself I make this prayer, But for this race of mine That stretches forth from shadowed places Dark hands for bread and wine.