I Doubt Not God Is Good, Well-meaning,

Lord, Forgive Me If My Need Sometimes Shapes A Human Creed.

Yet Do I Marvel At This Curious Thing:/ To Make A Poet Black, And Bid Him Sing!

We Were Not Made To Eternally Weep.

I Cut My Teeth As The Black Raccoon-- For Implements Of Battle.

What Is Africa To Me: Copper Sun Or Scarlet Sea, Jungle Star Or Jungle Track, Strong Bronzed Men, Or Regal Black Women From Whose Loins I Sprang When The Birds Of Eden Sang?