Color

COLOR

By Countee Cullen

Harper & Brothers, Publishers New York and London mcmxxv

COLOR

Copyright, 1925, by Harper & Brothers Printed in the United States of America

To my Mother and Father This First Book

Acknowledgments

For permission to reprint certain of these poems thanks is hereby given to the following publications:

The American Mercury The Bookman The Century The Crisis The Conning Tower: New York World Folio Harper’s Magazine Les Continents The Messenger The Nation Opportunity Palms Poetry: A Magazine of Verse The Southwestern Christian Advocate The Survey Graphic The World Tomorrow Vanity Fair

To You Who Read My Book

SOON every sprinter,

Color

[2]

Yet Do I Marvel

I DOUBT not God is good, well-meaning, kind,

A Song of Praise

(For one who praised his lady’s being fair.)

YOU have not heard my love’s dark throat,

[5]

Brown Boy to Brown Girl

(Remembrance on a hill) (For Yolande)

“AS surely as I hold your hand in mine,

A Brown Girl Dead

WITH two white roses on her breasts,

To a Brown Girl

(For Roberta)

WHAT if his glance is bold and free,

To a Brown Boy

THAT brown girl’s swagger gives a twitch

[9]

Black Magdalens

THESE have no Christ to spit and stoop

Atlantic City Waiter

WITH subtle poise he grips his tray

Near White

AMBIGUOUS of race they stand,

Tableau

For Donald Duff

LOCKED arm in arm they cross the way,

Harlem Wine

THIS is not water running here,

Simon the Cyrenian Speaks

HE never spoke a word to me,

Incident

(For Eric Walrond)

ONCE riding in old Baltimore,

Two Who Crossed a Line

(She Crosses)

FROM where she stood the air she craved

Two Who Crossed a Line

(He Crosses)

HE rode across like a cavalier,

Saturday’s Child

SOME are teethed on a silver spoon,

The Dance of Love

(After reading René Maran’s “Batouala”)

ALL night we danced upon our windy hill,

Pagan Prayer

NOT for myself I make this prayer,

Wisdom Cometh With the Years

NOW I am young and credulous,

To My Fairer Brethren

THOUGH I score you with my best,

Fruit of the Flower

MY father is a quiet man

The Shroud of Color

(For Llewellyn Ransom)

“LORD, being dark,” I said, “I cannot bear

Heritage

(For Harold Jackman)

WHAT is Africa to me:

[42]

Epitaphs

[44]

For a Poet

I HAVE wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,

For My Grandmother

THIS lovely flower fell to seed;

For a Cynic

BIRTH is a crime

For a Singer

DEATH clogged this flute

For a Virgin

FOR forty years I shunned the lust

For a Lady I Know

SHE even thinks that up in heaven

For a Lovely Lady

A CREATURE slender as a reed,

For an Atheist

MOUNTAINS cover me like rain,

For an Evolutionist and His Opponent

SHOWING that our ways agreed,

For an Anarchist

WHAT matters that I stormed and swore?

For a Magician

I WHOSE magic could explore

For a Pessimist

HE wore his coffin for a hat,

For a Mouthy Woman

GOD and the devil still are wrangling

For a Philosopher

HERE lies one who tried to solve

For an Unsuccessful Sinner

I BOASTED my sins were sure to sink me

For a Fool

ON earth the wise man makes the rules,

For One Who Gayly Sowed His Oats

MY days were a thing for me to live,

For a Skeptic

BLOOD-BROTHER unto Thomas whose

For a Fatalist

LIFE ushers some as heirs-elect

For Daughters of Magdalen

OURS is the ancient story:

For a Wanton

TO men no more than so much cover

For a Preacher

VANITY of vanities,

For One Who Died Singing of Death

HE whose might you sang so well

For John Keats, Apostle of Beauty

NOT writ in water, nor in mist,

For Hazel Hall, American Poet

SOUL-TROUBLED at the febrile ways of breath,

For Paul Laurence Dunbar

BORN of the sorrowful of heart,

For Joseph Conrad

NOT of the dust, but of the wave

For Myself

WHAT’S in this grave is worth your tear;

All the Dead

PRIEST and layman, virgin, strumpet,

[74]

For Love’s Sake

[76]

Oh, for a Little While Be Kind

(For Ruth Marie)

OH, for a little while be kind to me

If You Should Go

LOVE, leave me like the light,

To One Who Said Me Nay

THIS much the gods vouchsafe today:

Advice to Youth

(For Guillaume)

SINCE little time is granted here

Caprice

“I ’LL tell him, when he comes,” she said,

Sacrament

SHE gave her body for my meat,

Bread and Wine

FROM death of star to new star’s birth,

Spring Reminiscence

“MY sweet,” you sang, and, “Sweet,” I sang,

Varia

[86]

Suicide Chant

I AM the seed

She of the Dancing Feet Sings

(To Ottie Graham)

“AND what would I do in heaven, pray,

Judas Iscariot

I THINK when Judas’ mother heard

The Wise

(For Alain Locke)

DEAD men are wisest, for they know

Mary, Mother of Christ

THAT night she felt those searching hands

Dialogue

THERE is no stronger thing than song;

In Memory of Col. Charles Young

ALONG the shore the tall, thin grass

To My Friends

YOU feeble few that hold me somewhat more

Gods

I FAST and pray and go to church,

To John Keats, Poet. At Spring Time[A]

(For Carl Van Vechten)

I CANNOT hold my peace, John Keats;

[A] Spring, 1924

On Going

(For Willard Johnson)

A GRAVE is all too weak a thing

Harsh World That Lashest Me

(For Walter White)

HARSH World that lashest me each day,

Requiescam

I AM for sleeping and forgetting

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE:

An incorrect page number in the Table of Contents has been corrected.