Poems by Countee Cullen
A Brown Girl Dead
... She'd be so proud she'd dance and sing ...
For A Lady I Know
... Her class lies late and snoresWhile poor black cherubs rise at seven ...
For A Poet
... Who found the earth's breath so keen and cold ...
From the Dark Tower
... The night whose sable breast relieves the stark, ...
Fruit of the Flower
... There haunts them yet the languid ghost ...
Heritage
... no more Does the bugle-throated roar ...
Incident
... Of all the things that happened there ...
Saturday's Child
... " Death cut the strings that gave me life, ...
Simon the Cyrenian Speaks
... What all of Rome could not have wrought ...
That Bright Chimeric Beast
... And there, death brought to life, ...
The Loss of Love
... For winds to pierce and storms to flood ...
The Shroud of Color
... ""Dark child of sorrow, mine no less, what art Of mine can make thee see ...
The Wise
... They sleep and dream and have no weight, ...
To Certain Critics
... I'll bear your censure as your praise, ...
Yet Do I Marvel
... Why flesh that mirrors Him must some day die, ...
