RHAPSODY

I am glad daylong for the gift of song,

For time and change and sorrow;

For the sunset wings and the world-end things

Which hang on the edge of to-morrow.

I am glad for my heart whose gates apart

Are the entrance-place of wonders,

Where dreams come in from the rush and din

Like sheep from the rains and thunders.

The Book of American Negro Poetry · 第 55 / 169 题