All These Things the Old Tales Tell - The Selected Poetry of Alice Dunbar Nelson

Alice Dunbar Nelson

• Publisher: Ragged Hand
• Year: 2020
• ISBN:
  9781528791014
• Topic: Literatura
• Subtopic: Poesía americana

Alice Dunbar Nelson (1875–1935) was an American journalist, political activist, and poet. She belonged to the first generation of black southerners born into freedom following the Civil War and gained acclaim for her poetry, columns, dramas, and stories. This fantastic book contains a brand new collection of Nelson's best and most famous poetry, highly recommended for poetry lovers with an interest in the history of slavery in the United States. Contents include: "Three Thoughts", "A Plaint", "Impressions", "You! Inez!", "Legend of the Newspaper", "Amid the Roses", "Paul to Virginia - Fin De Siecle", "In Memoriam", "At Bay St. Louis", "I Sit and Sew", "New Year's Day", "Farewell", "If I had Known", "Chalmetle", "The Idler", etc. Other notable works by this author include: "As in a Looking Glass" (1926–1930), "The Colored United States" (1924), and "People of Color in Louisiana" (1917). Ragged Hand is proudly publishing this brand new collection of classic poetry with a specially-commissioned biography of the author.

IN MEMORIAM

The light streams through the windows arched high,

And o'er the stern, stone carvings breaks

In warm rich gold and crimson waves,

Then steals away in corners dark to die.

And all the grand cathedral silence falls

Into the hearts of those that worship low,

Like tender waves of hushed nothingness,

Confined nor kept by human earthly walls.

Deep music in its thundering organ sounds,

Grows diffuse through the echoing space,

Till hearts grow still in sadness' mighty joy,

Or leap aloft in swift ecstatic bounds.

Mayhap 'twas but a dream that came to me,

Or but a vision of the soul's desire,

To see the nation in one mighty whole,

Do homage on its bended, worshipping knee.

Through time's heroic actions, the soul of man,

Alone proves what that soul without earth's dross

Could be, and this, through time's far-searching fire,

Hath proved thine white beneath the deepest scan.

A woman's tribute, 'tis a tiny dot,

A merest flower from a frail, small hand,

To lay among the many petaled wreaths

About thy form,—a tribute soon forgot.

But if in all the incense to arise

In fragrance to the blue empyrean

The blended sweetness of the womens' love

Goes pouring too, in all their heartfelt sighs.

And if one woman's sorrow be among them too,

One woman's joy for labor pa...