A Skylark Wounded In The Wing, /

Thou Art A Man God Is No More Thy Own Humanity Learn To Adore

In Seed Time Learn, In Harvest Teach, In Winter Enjoy.

The Vision Of Christ That Thou Dost See Is My Vision's Greatest Enemy.

My Mother Bore Me In The Southern Wild, And I Am Black, But O! My Soul Is White; White As An Angel Is The English Child, But I Am Black As If Bereaved Of Light.

How Do You Know But Ev’ry Bird That Cuts The Airy Way, Is An Immense World Of Delight, Clos’d By Your Senses Five?