PS 3503 .U6813P4 1917 m tL. m m mt m m" . '■ : M I \.JtS.^JL- ■ mW^^H ■■-•"-mr~' " w r=»J . ^K Class _P_£v^ Boolc_zi m^—LlH^ FfRIGRT DEPOSm \ On pages herein you will see My tribute to my ancestry. That this will live and of worth he, I inscribe, To Posterity! Louts V. ^urrell t3be ;Qetal8 of tbe [l^ose POEMS AND EPIGRAMS by LOUIS V. BURRELL. It Price, $1.25. Morton, Del. Co., Pennsylvania. l%i C^ti Copyrighted 1917 by LOUIS V. BURRELL. Morton, Pa. APR -4 1917 C! A 4 s; i 5 3 PREFACE. This little book contains many messages to any number of people, but to my enemies (they know who they are), those who could see no pood in me, those ones who have slandered me, lied about and tried to pull me down, those ones who have tried to kill me financially, socially, mentally, physically and spiritually, the message I quote to them from the Holy Bible: "He amonp' ye with- out sin cast the first stone;" "It is not what was I doing yesterday — it is, what am I doing today;" "A tree is known by the fruit it bears;" "Better a millstone be tied around your neck and cast into the sea than harm a hair of the head of the least of one of these my little ones;" "God is our refuge and our strength." To those dear, kind friends, some who have aided me so often, and in so many ways, those who kept faith in me (you know who you are), it will convey a message to you that I was worthy of your aid, and sincerely thank you accordingly. You have a grand heritage with God. You will find in Matthew, 25th chapter, 33rd to 40th verse, words to that effect. If any thought, word or deed expressed in this book is the means of renewing the courage of one of the readers thereof, and causes that one, when seemingly overcome in the battle with this world and sunk in despair, to take heart and try again, I have not lived in vain. And if any one, low in the mire of sin, can find anything contained in these lines herein written that will cause him to strug- gle out of the mire into the path, narrow and steep, that leads to eternal life, then am I content, for I have done something for that Saviour who has done so very, very much for me. CONTENTS. Page The Petals of the Rose 11 Introduction 11 My Excuse . . 12 Always 12 Tomorrow 13 The Victor 13 The Mantle of Dunbar 14 Aching Heart 15 The Harbor 16 Shuckin' Corn 17 Why 18 The Old Year 18 Examine the Acorn 18 Dear One 19 If I Could 20 A Wish 20 My Plea 21 That Little Old VHlage Called Home 27 Page Enchantment 28 Deeds 28 The Nesrro 29 To Be Happy 33 Qualification 33 To Mamie 34 A Friend 35 Warnino' 35 Why Yah an' Mandy Sing 36 The ComJng of Love 38 The Seasons 39 Heed 40 Day and Night 41 Will You? 43 De Bes' Cook in De Lan* 44 My Life 45 Remember 46 Trouble 46 He Who Succeeds 47 Ras' Johnson's Fust Prayeh 48 My Determination ^1 While Time Lasts ^^ Morton ^^ Roses and Thorns ^^ THE PETALS OF THE ROSE POEMS AND EPIGRAMS The Petals of the Rose Poems. 11 THE PETALS OF THE ROSE. The petals of the rose, white, yellow, pink or red, Are rich with sweetest scent, A fragrance so refin'd, 'tis loved by those well-bred, The aroma's never spent. The petals of the rose, as I before have said. Are sweet, I love to dwell On perfume rich and rare, e'en when the rose is dead, So that I fain would tell In poetry, not prose. Of petals of the rose. INTRODUCTION. I am the ground where the rose bush does thrive. The bush, worthy friend, you can help keep alive ; The Publishers are the wall where the rose- bush does cling. Without them to help we could not do a thing. The backs are the branches, the book is the rose, The pages are the leaves of the rose-bush that grows. And as you turn the pages and petals they fall, You receive the sweet fragrance of rose petals all. 12 The Petals of the Rose Poems. MY EXCUSE. I have just begun my singing, My songs are not always sweet, And just why they lack this harmony I will tell if you are discreet. When I was quite young, my parents With patience taught me to try To recount an occurrence truthful, Without the least form of a lie. That's why I seem egotistic, That's why sometime I seem mad. That's why I sing with a smile and tear, And sing of the good and the bad. I have just begun my singing, My songs are not always sweet, For I've never yet been taught to lie, So my training is incomplete. I try to sing all my ballads. In the spirit of my youth, But if one of my songs displeases you, Then, my friend, you must blame the truth. ALWAYS Peace is sweetest after pain. Sunshine brightest after rain, The Petals of the Rose Poems. 13 TOMORROW Because of my trials and temptations, I have sinned and transgressed the law, That God in His all-wise creation Made perfect without the least flaw. Because of my sins and transgression Against the wise law of my God, I'm held by the hand of oppression, And my spirit beat to the sod. Because of my sickness and sorrow. Because of my deep grief and pain, My God in His own time tomorrow, Will not let me suffer again. Because my temptations immersed me, I most failed, but Fve done my best, The Master in His tender mercy Will grive me an eternal rest. THE VICTOR It is good if you have naught to tell Of never having had a fall. It is better, though you fought and fell, Than never to have fought at all. And best if after you have fallen. Have fallen, though you fought so well. You rise again at trumpet's call, then Snatch victory from the mouth of hell. 14 The Petals of the Rose Poems. THE MANTLE OF DUNBAR The mantle which Dunbar let fall as his soul took flight Through the shadowy gloom of a long winter's night, To the beautiful land of eternal delight, Has fallen upon me to make my life bright. Therefore I sing with the voice of the lark in the day. Or the notes of the nightingale when night holds sway. And though most times I'm happy, I'm not always gay. For they who would dance have the piper to pay. I There is not always sunshine and there's not always rain. But ever after one comes the other again. Life is not always peaceful, there's always some pain. There are none here quite pure, we all have some stain. VvTierever there is wisdom there is always a clown. Wherever there is laughter there you'll find a frown. And they who would win joy and heavens jeweled crown, Must often in sorrow on earth be cast down. The Petals of the Rose Poems. 15 So that's why if this mantle of Dunbar's I would wear, Along with his singing I must, too, have his tear, While the disease that was his with grim death quite near, Also comes with the mantle, but death I don't fear. And though I may have his genius, I have even so All his trials, and his troubles, his pain, and his woe. But they shall not o'ercome me, not me, I say no; For God lives within me, I sound the echo. ACHING HEART My heart is sorely aching And full of grief and pain, My spirit, it is breaking. For I have loved in vain. Our love it has been sundered, Our lives now drift apart. Our spirits must have blundered, Therefore my aching heart. In days gone by the sunshine Of love like threads of gold. Though woven round me spun fine Kept love from growing cold. 16 The Petals of the Rose Poems. But clouds obscured my vision, My sun of love is dim, Is this, then, my excision? The sky is dark and grim. Shadow like dusky twilight. Obscures my path through life, And blurs my once keen eyesight That kept me clear of strife. The days now know no pleasure For me my sad lips moan. And love, earth's greatest treasure, Has from my presence flown. Must I through life see storm clouds, And see the lightning flash? Must I see daylight, form shrouds. And hear the thunder crash? Yes, I must live in sorrow And see and hear the rain. But yet I know tomorrow The sun will shine again. THE HARBOR Life is the river on which we float Like cast-off mariners in a leaking boat, Twixt the shore of birth now so remote And of death so close we cannot help note. The Petals of the Rose Poems. 17 SHUCKIN' CAWN Wen de leabs is ole an' yelleh An' de summeh is long gawn, Wen yah wispeh an' yah tells heh Is yah both is shuckin' cawn. Yah tells Malinneh yoah heh f elleh, Jes is shuah is yah is bawn, Dere is no time dats so melleh Lak w'en both is shuckin' cawn. In de mawnin' bright an' eahly, An' de chilly fros' an' snoh, Is ablowin' white an' peahly In de sometime open doh. An' yoah layin' by de fieh Feelin' glad dat it is dawn, Feh yah wants teh be right by heh, In de f eil's ashuckin' cawn. Now de time comes feh yoah dinneh. An' yah feels dat yah could eat Chittlens, chicken, shuah a winneh, An' 'Possum skin brown an' sweet. But yah gibs all teh Malinneh Feh yoah ha't wit lobe is tawn. An' yah stan's dere lak a sinneh Kin of lonesome shuckin' cawn. 18 The Petals of the Rose Poems, Comes de twilight of de eben An' de win is blowin' cole, Now yah knows yah mus' be leabin* Feh de day is growin' ole. An' yah lak teh set by fieh In a room dats tight an' wawm No yah know yah is a lieh, Yah would rader shuck de cawn. WHY? Many ride post-haste for the doctor But walk very slowly back, While others hastily enter graveyards And never return, alack. Moral — One can easily lose one's health but it is a hard matter to recover it. And one can die quickly, but none can return. THE OLD YEAR Through leafless trees the wind is sighing, On frozen ground the snow is lying, While father time is swiftly flying I think I hear Dame Nature crying "Uncover all, the Old Year's dying!" EXAMINE THE ACORN Do not expect a massive oak tree, If the acorn you planted was rotten. The Petals of the Rose Poems. 19 DEAR ONE Dear one must we part forever? Will no love balm soothe our pain ? Must we, all the old ties sever? Can we not be friends again ? From the days of careless childhood, Into our more mature years, Picking flowers in the wild wood, Sometime maybe dropping tears. Memories of you always lingers Like the taste of rare old wine, And I long to hold your fingers As I did upon the time. When we rambled in the meadow And a meadow lark, unseen. Piped his even chant, you said low, On me through life you would lean. Sweet those days which we were living Happy in the vale of love. Ever to the other giving Things that came from God above. But the gloom of sorrow clouded And obscured the sun's bright ray So our life of love was shrouded In a cold and sombre gray. 20 The Petals of the Rose Poems. But those clouds soon will be breaking, And the sun will shine again, Then we'll find that clouds were making Love much brighter after rain. Dear one, we'll not part, no never, Our true love will ease all pain. And we'll be together ever 'Till death sings the last refrain. IF I COULD I would strew your path with flowers, I would send the sun each day For to brighten up dark places As you go upon your way. If I only had the power, I would drive away all care. But Jesus he is watching And will shield you through the year. A WISH My birthday wish to you, my dear. Is that all through the coming year, Your eyes will never know a tear, Caused by pain or dark despair ; But ever on your face you'll wear A happy smile that's free from care, The Petals of the Rose Poems. 21 MY PLEA Apropos to him who has past To realms where life does ever last, Of him who raised the mystic mask Which death has always held so fast. I speak of Dunbar to be brief, Who was our race's Poet Chief, I say to friends, assuage your grief, It is my hope and my belief. Though egotistic I may be. Can I not become great like he? I answer and this is my plea, I can if you will just help me. Can I not become great as he. Who has done very much for we. Children of slaves, those slaves set free By Lincoln's words of liberty. I think of those who never saw Or never knew the equal law, But died in chains, their backs beat raw! It makes me shudder now with awe. I fain would tell tales with my pen, And cast o'er slaves a glory, when I through pen make the world know then Our martyred women, martyred men. 22 The Petals of the Rose Poems Can I not become great as he? I have his sense of poetry, His tears, and, yes — his poverty ; But yet his glory I don't see ! I have his sickness and his pain, His trials, and sorrows, and his stain, I have his hopes, and pray for gain. And fear my hopes may be in vain. I have the hatred, this I know Of those that tried to keep him low ; I have his troubles and his woe, And wonder is it always so. Like him I've strived almost since born, I've struggled hard, my health is worn ; My body's bruised, my heart is torn, And I am sad, almost forlorn. Disease which brought death to his door Is stealing o'er me more and more ; And I am weakened to the core, All my bones ache, my lungs are sore. Tuberculosis, hf e may end. So may God to me quickly send, As to him, one to prove a friend. To help me on my upward trend. The Petals of the Rose Poems. 23 Like him, I have a haunting fear I cannot be much longer here ; The spectre of disease does leer And every trouble seems to jeer. So much at me, they make me sigh And start the tears out from the eye, Tm fearful lest maybe I die And have to bid my work goodby. Though thus far I have death defied, My miseries are multiplied. Sorrows stalk to me side by side. My life to wreck, its joys to hide. On me like on him, drink has placed Curst hands, and fingers interlaced In mine, drink has my powers braced. For a moment — reaction chased. The help I thought was so much good, And drink, revealed, a foeman stood ; While I in drink's befuddled mood Saw all my good deeds round me strew'd, Friends gathered, but their help refused, Then strangers came and me accused. And foes, me loudly they abused, Meanwhile I sat and sadly mused. 24 The Petals of the Rose Poems. Sometimes, like him, I choke and bleed, My lungs break, and like demons freed, The blood spurts out. Oh Master! heed My prayer to Thee, to Thee I plead. I cannot stand the drain and live Without you Master, for to give Me blood, mine runs as through a sieve, It seems my very bones are rive ! Give me. Lord, these things that I ask, Help me, and lighten. Lord, my task. No other has thy power vast. And on Thee, I myself now cast. Paul's mother was his angel dear. And he, her jew'l without compare, She never thought that he was queer, But cared for him for many a year. My mother reached God's crystal streams Long years ago, but yet it seems Her love surrounds me in bright beams When she comes to me in my dreams. God gave me friends, a sister, too ; Who helped me in my struggle through This world where nothing's ever new, But best, God gave a wife so true. The Petals of the Rose Poems. 25 That when pain pierces like a knife, Or times when I am tired of strife, When I almost despair of life, My help from God comes through that wife. I cannot glorify her now, But yet I feel that men somehow Will understand, doff hats, and bow, And one and all you will allow That when a sickly sonnetteer Has wife who all his burdens share, A brighter crown than he, she'll wear, In God's own city over there. Yet so many things come to mar My life, I suffer more by far Than ever did our friend Dunbar, I cry aloud with voice ajar, "The cross is more than I can bear," ^.1 Life! be good. Oh, Christ! be near;" Now if God heareth me my prayer, And you and your friends really care. ril try once more and yet again, Try, using pen and nerve and brain, Try, every muscle tense with strain. Try for success and to attain. 26 The Petals of the Rose Poems. A higher standing for the race That we may fill our rightful place, With greater pride we then can trace The blood of Negroes in our face. If you will help me in my climb, I, too, will reach the heights sublime, And gain the place that should be mine. And will be, in the Master's time. Then can I lift some others up And pass them the elusive cup Of success — ^they can also sup. What matters if it be abrupt. Oft times I rant, sometimes I rave. When for the better things I crave, I am no longer just a slave! And rising higher from the grave. Of envy, spite and malice, too. That held me, and also held you Like Pharaoh's legions held the Jew, But may we have no cause to rue. That we are tardy in our pace, And now I hope that with God's grace You will help our wrongs to efface. Not just for me but for the race. The Petals of the Rose Poems. 27 THAT LITTLE OLD VILLAGE CALLED HOME. You may laud if you wish some great city Till your voice reaches the azure dome, But there's no place however so pretty As that little old village call'd home. All the streets there by large trees are shaded, And the houses seem breathing welcome To those ones who are tired or jaded, In that little old village call'd home. You may search as I did countries foreign, I went through like finest toothed comb, But there was nothing that I e*en saw then Like that little old village calFd home. Though the grass and the flowers grow wild there, And in winter winds roar like a bomb, There is really no place that is so dear As that little old village call'd home. I have traveled all over creation. From far Cape Town to distant Cape Nome, But there's no place could give me elation Like that little old village caird home. In summer, streets are dusty and sunbak'd. In winter, frozen hard, and lonesome, But give me even though it is mud-cak'd. Just that little old village caird home. 28 The Petals of the Rose Poems. Though I see many cities of grandeur, And their bread streets quite often I roam, There are none that I've seen that I stand for Like that little old village call'd home. And I've seen splendid sights (don't refute me) As I saird o'er the vast ocean's foam, Yet nothing that had just the same beauty As that little old village call'd home. Could I there only sit this bright ev'ing. With my wife, not myself like a mome, Then my heart would no longer be grieving For that little old village call'd home. You may happy be, while you can travel And tread some strange, rich, far-distant loam. But with joy I will walk on the gravel Of that little old village call'd home. ENCHANTMENT Dere ain't no ha'm in lovin' If yoah love libes far away, De ha'm comes w'en yah see each other Neahly ev'ey day. DEEDS Good deeds are never done in vain. Bad deeds will never bring one gain. The Petals of the Rose Poems 29 THE NEGRO Created by God's own masterstroke, You see him, the primitive man, The positive force, unknown to slavery's yoke, Leader of all races for a span Of years, then for disobedience damn'd, And in his progress made to stand; He was by other races then enslaved. With every man's hand against him raised. See him in Egypt, the mightiest power of all the world, Vast wealth was his, in battle his banner remained unfurled ; Greece, Rome and others came to him to be taught To learn to work in precious metals as he wrought. For his was the brightest mind, the most advanced thought. But though the fairer ones came to him to learn. The Negro's darker color they did spurn. Then with bitter jealousy and rage At the wisdom he displayed All nations with him a great war did wage. And won, for all races against black was arrayed ! They conquered him, then with wanton cruelty 30 The Petals of the Rose Poems. Lay in waste his once rich and fertile country, Burned, raped and pillaged, down to the very sea. Seasons change and many years now pass. Bringing their sorrows and sufferings, and, alas, When next he's found deeper in Af ric's torrid clime. Oh, look, is not this fell ; From heights of civilization once upon a time, He's fallen to the very gates of hell ; Savage, a clod of darkest clay, A child of nature, wild, uncouth ; Glories are gone, history of his past life swept away. Gone are the heritages of his youth ; Pomp and splendor gone and no desire to roamj He's found in Africa another home. Then fairer skin, he of the north. Stole Black, and Black from Africa came forth. Came from his home afaraway. To toil for White, both night and day, Without a comfort, without a say, Like human brute, he got no pay. The Petals of the Rose Poems. 31 God gave him passions, soul and mind, And made him human, and lo, we find Him Hke cattle, herded to be sold. '*0h, nations look; behold! behold!'' Yes, look ye nations, look now and see What manner of man is this who once bent the knee And bared his faithful, suffering back, To torture equal to the rack ; Who struggled through his slavery, From that cruel hand of tyranny, And never did give up the fight, For he was fighting for his right. From early morn 'till late at night Against a tyrant in his might. Held back by tyrant slavery's hand Urged on by subtle inner force ; Atremble at the sharp command That bid him on to bear his cross. It seemed that he must die, he could not keep the pace But fate, who was not reckoned with, kept black in the race. And all those years while he was bound. And years that he's been free, 'Twas, and is now Fate's solemn sound Of On ! On ! On ! It is to be. And using past splendors and pain, for his goad. 32 The Petals of the Rose Poems. He never lightens the greatest load, But pointing to present circumstance, He hastens on the Black's advance. And Black, with shining courage splendid as the sun, Though suffering great, strives on, and on to run, He sees beyond the toil and pain ; He sees, the awful road ahead ! He knows he has to win to gain, To lose — his very cause is dead. So he still struggles with the rest. Seeing the race course entire length, Ever and anon coming abreast Of a runner and forging ahead with mighty strength ; Strength the world never even guessed Nor had an idea he possessed ; Oh, see the glorious deeds he's done, See him all his rivals stun. Flashing by them one by one. Skilled labor, and the Arts, and Craft, All professions and the Sciences are passed ; He's gaining on the leaders fast. Spite, envy, malice and prejudice Must at length yield, After using every artifice Must leave Black master of the field. * * >}< The Petals of the Rose Poems. 33 Saw ye him yesterday, bound in chains, bowed in sorrow, Almost no hope, the future dark and dire? See him today, with lofty aim and great desire ; Then see Ethiop. with arms outstretched to- morrow, A power filled with the creative fire. TO BE HAPPY Think kindly thoughts, Speak gentle words. Do goodly deeds. QUALIFICATION If you haven't got the strength to lift a heavy weight, Just mingle with the weak ones until your strength gets great. But if you have the strength to lift any weight at all Lift and keep lifting it no matter if it's small, Then when strong men are wanted you can answer to the call, You, too, can lift a heavy weight and will not let it fall. 34 The Petals of the Rose Poems. TO MAMIE My dearest Mame You brown skin belle, I only came My love to tell, For crinkl'd hair And eyes of jet. That with your tear I'm thinking yet. Yes, and your smile And dimpled cheek, I love them while My heart is meek ; Oh, jew'l so rare, Withal so fine. None can compare From any mine. I cannot find, Though hard I seek, Words of a kind My love to speak. Oh, flower sweet Thou art divine, 'Tis you I greet And for you pine. (From Greeland's ic'd Mountain peaks, and India's spic'd The Petals of the Rose Poems. 35 Warm coral strand) Tve traverd, saw, Maids young and fair Without a flaw, But none I care. As for you, brown Sweet Mamie, dear, I am cast down. But you can cheer That what is now A barren heart, And make somehow A garden start. A FRIEND The friend in deed Comes in time of our need. Today in our sickness and sorrow 'Tis not he, who others' call will heed And to our bier, then, will speed With flowers — perhaps — tomorrow. WARNING If you go bathing and cannot swim. Don't go out of your depth when you venture in Unless there are others round about. Then if you sink they can fish you out. 36 The Petals of the Rose Poems. WHY YAH AN MANDY SING On a cole an' cloudless night Wit' de moon ashinin' bright, An' de gol'en stahs atwinklin' true de trees ; All de groun' is cover'd quite, Wit a mantle spaklin' white. An' de win' it is so cole yah think yah'U freeze. Is yah go from fieh light. It shuah is a gran' gran' sight. Though de cole it makes yah trimble in yah knees, Now it seems dat jes feh spite, Dat de houn's begin teh fight. Is yah lose dem up from weh dey lay it ease, Underneath de ole house tight; But eve'y thing ends allright Feh dey ketch de smell of 'possum on de breeze, B'er 'Possum is soon in flight. An' yah yell wit' all yoah might, W'ile de houn's run roun' about an' sniff and sneeze. Once again de houn's all try, By asmellin' low an' high. An' now it las' de possum's smell dey fin' ; Is de houn's go rushin' by. Yah kant help a sudden sigh, Feh it somehow paints a picsure in yoah min\ (How yah dady had teh lie. Wit' de teah draps in his eye, The Petals of the Rose Poems. 37 A hidin* in de canebrake among de pine, An' though he was hidin' nigh, Wit de iioun's all in full cry, God saved him by de undergroun' railroad line). But my how de time do fly, An' B'er 'Possum young but sly, Wile alayin' in de treetop lak his kin' ; Is shot it las' an' he die An' yah think of 'Possum pie. Is yah tote him home teh be cooked mos' de- vine. Home it las' an' Mandy's got Young B'er 'Possum in de pot. Wit' de sweeten tatehs layin' all aroun' ; An' he tickels de right spot When yah eat him pipin' hot Wit' de gravey drippin' slippin' sweet an' brown. Dere is cawn bread look lak gole, An' dere's cabbage bless yah soul, Dat has jes been lately taken from de groun'; Mandy someweh we've been tole Ain't not now so ve'y ole, An' de bes' cook dat kin anyweh be foun' Cook's a feas' fit feh a king, An' yoah ha'ts lak joybells ring, Is yah set dere an' de good things jes eat down. Den is yah an' Mandy cling To each other is yah sing After eatin', yoah de happiest two in town. 38 The Petals of the Rose Poems. THE COMING OF LOVE The soft, zephyr-like breeze Mingling gently round about, Like the tender touch of Loving and caressing fingers. And rustling the palms where the tropical moonlight, Lent a sparkling white radiance to the night. Glinting through leaves and branches, Shining down upon palm fronds And the many plants and flowers, Glittering like diamonds or other precious stones. On nature in this warm southern clime ; Here under the blue canopy of heaven, With the stars twinkling like a myriad of small candles, Here among the Palmettos, While a thrush piped his evening chant In the witch elms overhead. I beheld her face as beautiful as a goddess. Eyes glorious with the deep lustre of creative power. Breath as sweet and refreshing as the balmy spice Laden autumnal winds of India's coral strand ; Here in this mystical phantom-like fairyland. As I gazed into her eyes. With her head nestling on my breast. Swiftly and silently as the wings Which bring the morning, And as welcome as the sunshine in winter, Came love. The Petals of the Rose Poems. 39 THE SEASONS Now the morning's chill one often, While the days are cool and gray And the Autumn's twilight soften All too soon the light of day. Drawing fast the darker shading Of an ebon tinted night, Slowly, oh, so slowly fading To another gray day's light. But at length the Autumn sickens And then passes into death, While the pulse of Winter quickens And he draws his first faint breath, He chills nature with his cold touch Living things soon freeze and die, Neither season demands so much As King Winter passing by. 'Tis a lesson God is giving As the year is growing old. Spring is youth, and we are living, Winter, we are dead and cold. Comes a day he, too, is leaving. Though he seems so loath to go, To the earth he still is cleaving, For he leaves us with a snow. 40 The Petals of the Rose Poems. At length soft spring winds are blowing Laden with a sweet perfume. Fruit and flowers are now growing Nature with life is abloom. And Spring goes on into Summer, Summer merges into Fall, FaU then dies, and then the mummer Winter comes, I've told it all. HEED The moments are speeding With time you are needing To complete your labors on earth without stain. You'd better be heeding Your inner man's pleading And don't let your life be lived on earth in vain. But pay what you borrow And put by your sorrow And your spirit with peace shall be inured to pain, Then death without horror Shall sometime tomorrow Escort you to Heaven where you'll live again. The Petals of the Rose Poems 41 DAY AND NIGHT Grand and wonderous is the dawning Of the first dim streaks of day, When the sun is robed in scarlet, Or is clothed in crimson gay. Heaven's vault is stained with colors, Green and golden, purple, too, Painted by the master artist In a variegated hue. Bright and beauteous is the daylight When the sun shines soft and clear. On the fields in the midwinter. Clad in white afar and near. How the snow it gleams and glistens Like the field of "Cloth of Gold," As though cover'd with rare diamonds More than Af ric's mines can hold. And in summer sunlight warmly Covers fields so sweet and green, Dew drops sparkling in the greensward Tell us fields are fresh and clean. But the day is swiftly passing. She must answer at the call. Is day grieving she is leaving As the shades of evening fall ? 42 The Petals of the Rose Poems. No, she knows the Master's pleasure, Knows He doeth all things right. So with twilight comes the shadows Of a long dark winter's night. If perchance it may be summer Night comes to us just the same, Though the summer day is longer . Night slips in like a good dame. Sleep, the gift to tired nature, Comes to us when world is dark. Soothing, strengthening, and reviving, Once again the vital spark. Morpheus, goddess of the slumber, Ope* thy arms and let me creep Close upon thy restful bosom. For I know I much would sleep. Sleep, the mask of oblivion. Sleep, the banisher of pain. Sleep, we're dead yet are we living, Come I court thee once again. Morpheus, bring thy subtle potion, Your lips to mine gently place. Bring thy boon to tired mankind. For I fain would thee embrace. The Petals of the Rose Poema. 43 WILL YOU? When death almost has placed his icy fingers on my brow, And life has ope'd his mouth to softly say adieu, adieu, My thoughts will be of you as ever this I vow And I wonder will you think of me, will you? When death has, oh, so tightly elapsed the hands that once you clasped ! The hands that toiled for you though weak, and weakly sinned, 'tis true, And life at last broke for all time his warmer grasp, I wonder will you clasp these cold hands! WiU you? When death has kissed these lips you kissed, that always shall be thine ! These lips once red with life, but in death silent, cold and blue. And life has fled and left these mortal bones of mine, I wonder will you kiss these blue lips ! Will you? 44 The Petals of the Rose Poems. DE BES' COOK IN DE LAN' Golly do yah know my Mandy? She's a cook dats in deman', Bakin' pies an' makin' candy, She kin sutin beat de ban', Bilin' cabbage, makin' cawn bread Well, she shuah is jes de han', An' de ole Missus alwes sed She's de bes' cook in de Ian'. Have yah eveh smelt de loven' 'Possum wit gra\y all 'roun', Is she takes him from de oven So hot, juicy, an' light brown, An' de sweeten taters layin' 'Roun de 'possum in de pan, Is yah ter yoahse'f is say in'. She's de bes' cook in de Ian' ! Have yeh eveh eat sow belly, Er eat of de chicken meat. Have yah eat of home-made jelly An' of biled ham good an' sweet? It would make yah hit Mars Andy, Feh it's somethin' yah kant stan', An' yah know dat yoah gal Mandy, Is de bes' cook in de Ian'. The Petals of the Rose Poems 45 MY LIFE A pinch of all that's beautiful, A hand full of all that's dross. Yet I kick not against the pricks, For I know that is my cross. A little bit of loving, a great deal of hate, A great deal that is crooked, and a little that is straight. A little bit of shining, a great deal of rust, A great deal of envy, and a little bit of trust. A little bit of pleasure, a great deal of pain, A little bit of sunshine, and a great deal of rain. A great deal of sorrow, a little bit of joy, A mixture of all of these, just so that none will cloy. A little bit of laughter, a long, long cry, A little bit of smiling, and a long-drawn sigh. A little bit of kindness, that will help me if I try, And cause my face to smile again, my tears again to dry. 46 The Petals of the Rose Poems. A great deal of poverty, a little bit of wealth, A great deal of sickness, and a little bit of health. A little bit of peacefulness, a great deal of strife, An unequal division of everything, and that's my life. REMEMBER Iron heated is more easily bent. Cloth that is rotten is easily rent. One quick to anger their passion's soon spent. Though death blows, by such ones are quickly sent. Some people do evil with good intent, And others do good when evil they meant. TROUBLE Never weep over troubles or you will never smile. But laugh and troubles will not be such an awful trial. For by laughing at troubles, troubles you will beguile, And leave all your troubles behind you a mile. The Petals of the Rose Poems. 47 HE WHO SUCCEEDS Success is for him who has sunk so low, That cursed by friend and beat down by foe, And caught by the current's strong under-tow To be almost scorched by hell's hot glow, But taught by this process long, cruel and slow, At last will learn and after learning know That a man will reap what e'er he may sow. After sowing sorrow and reaping tears, After planting traps and gathering snares. After dropping troubles and digging cares, And harvesting vices for many long years. He stops himself short in his wild career. And turns right about to bear and forbear. To fight hard against the dark waters flow That would drag him down where the lost souls go, To fight bruised and bleeding and blow for blow. Each victory will make him stronger grow, And more intrepid or more hard to throw. Thus at last from the scarlet sin and woe He emerges successful, white as snow. Where before he reaped nothing but weeds, Or at best a small bunch of willow reeds. He now has a harvest of golden deeds, And this is success and he who succeeds. Success is not measured by man's demand. But weighed in the balance by God's hand. 48 The Petals of the Rose Poems. RAS. JOHNSON'S FUST PRAYEH Ras' Johnson did not go teh chuch Neh lead a liges life, His days was full of bickering. His nights chuck full of strife. He neveh tended Sunday School, He neveh learned a prayeh, If Satan would of come f eh him. He'd f oun' Ras' mighty neah. Teh pick a quaF seemed teh be Ras' Johnson's chief delight. He'd ratheh pick a qual dan Pick chickens any night. An' Ras' shuah was some fightin* man. He was not built f eh speed, But lak a supeh dreadnought built. Burly, black and, knock kneed. An' lak a mighty dreadnought's guns. Words from his mouth would roah, So cha'ged wit blazes is he fought. His battle's soon weh o'eh. Yes, eve'y one who Rastus fought Would lose an' git beat up, While he would go 'roun' growlin' lak A great big mangy pup. The Petals of the Rose Poems. 49 But one day Rastus fell in lobe Wit Cindy Suggs an' darn If Rastus dident marry heh, Though she had done no harm. She was a lile brown skin thing An' had a chicken ha't; She tried teh teach Rastus teh pray Feh she was good an' sma't. But Ras' he would not learn teh pray, An' teh make matters wuss, His fightin' blood begin teh bile, An' he begin teh cuss. He nex' slaps Cindy in de face, An' Cindy reaches down Quick, grabs de pokah off de stove. An' done dat boy up brown. She tok dat i'on pokeh an' She cracked him in de shin, An' w'en he tried teh grab his laig She kick'd him in de win'. Den is he was bent double why She hit him on de haid, De pokeh could not stan' dat blow An' pooh Ras' mos' drapped daid. 50 The Petals of the Rose Poems. She gouged dat pokeh in his eye, She raked him down de eah, She bounced it twice upon his nose, Lil Cindy was a beah. Dat pokeh broke out several teeth, An' uppeh cut his chin, An' w'en agin it banged his dome. He had no chance to win. She bent dat pokeh on his haid. It sutin was a sin, Feh den she straightened it right nice Upon his haid agin. An' Rastus de supeh dreadnought. Not built feh speed but fight. Ran lak an ocean greyhoun' An' soon was out of sight. An' is he run croweds heard him say ''I's runnin' feh my Ufe, Feh de Lord's sake please don' stop me. But Lord ! please stop my wife." Now dat is how tough Rastus come A deacon in de chuch. While Cindy Suggs with watchful eye Kept him upon his puch. The Petals of the Rose Poems. 51 MY DETERMINATION Among foothills I slowly walked, The shadows were intense, A gloom pervaded that was caused. By mountain peaks immense. My conscience questioned, why should I Abide on lower ground ? So damp, and dreary, and so cold, With darkness all around. While others basked on mountain's top And frohcked in the sun, Why should I forlorn stay below? Oh, Life! What had I done? This was the question that I asked Unto the inner men, The answer came, desire to rise. Then if you strive you can. I then said, gloom I'd leave behind. Where others went Yd go, I, too, would reach the eminence. E'en though my step was slow. If they had reached the topmost peak Which seemed to touch the sky. Then that should also be my goal, I'd reach there, too, or die. K 2 The Petals of the Rose Poems, 'Twas thus that I began my climb From low ground, and to mount A little higher every day, And make each moment count. My heart was heavy at the start, My view of life was wrong, But viewpoint changed as I went up. My eyes once weak, grew strong. My face once sad and lined with care, Smiled as I went along, And lo, what mystery was this? My heart burst into song. And so I scaled the mountain's side. Though rugged and quite steep. Sometime I'd leap with muscles tense O'er chasms wide and deep. At each side sometimes towered cliffs. And freezing winds would blow Upon me in this rough defile. With flint-like cutting snow. And thus my upward path was hard. Quite covered with sharp stones. Some places scarcely wide enough. And strewn with dead men's bones. The Petals of the Rose Poems. 53 The stones that bruised and pierced my feet, Now bother me no more, My journey now almost is done. My struggle almost o'er. And dead men's bones that once did strew, Sometime my rugged road, Are far behind, they stopped me not, But served me as a goad. Although not quite above the clouds. The gloom I now defy, For shadows that foreboding were. Are far beneath my eye. I know some day, I, too shall stand On mountain's utmost top, (Though lesser heights I do not spurn) There only, will I stop. The course o'er which I've come, I'll see With ever-bated breath, And when the pinnacle I've reached, I'll die a victor's death. WHILE TIME LASTS While onward rolls the wheel of time. My mind would be sweetly sublime, Could I but know until the end You'll always prove to be my friend. 54 The Petals of the Rose Poems. MORTON AND RUTLEDGE Good folks of Morton and Rutledge, to you I pay this tribute, for grand things you do. Morton and Rutledge, your climate like gold, Is valued by all — sick, well, young or old. If sick and discouraged, your life grown sad, Morton or Rutledge will make your heart glai Sun shining brightly most all the day long, Birds trilling so sweetly, song after song. At night silvery moon sheds over aU, A mystic silver sheen close like a shawl. Here winter's cool, yet mild, with little sleet. And snow falls just enough to suit the wheat. WTiile in the summer the rain gently drops, Just what is needed to help grow the crops. Come to this blissful clime, blest from above. And live a happy life with those you love. Rest in this garden spot no more to roam, Your dwelling place will be a sweet, sweet home. Our women, you wiU find them passing fair, With kindness and grace quite beyond com- pare. And men so valorous, half's ne'er been told. Debonair, honest, and like knight, so bold. People of both towns with hearts large and warm, Try to shield strangers, like dear ones, from harm. The Petals of the Rose Poems. 55 Yes, though you wander far, year after year, Naught better will you find than we have here. For folks of these two towns, colored or white, Have loyal hearts, always striving for right. In one of these f avor'd towns I would stay (For both are Eden's) until Judgment day. ROSES AND THORNS. The roses bloom on bush in spring, Their sweet perfume permeates the air, The thorns exudes no fragrance. But at all times you'll find thorns there. Finis.