North and South
O sweet are tropic lands for waking dreams! There time and life move lazily along.
There by the banks of blue-and-silver streams Grass-sheltered crickets chirp incessant song,
Gay-colored lizards loll all through the day, Their tongues outstretched for careless little flies,
And swarthy children in the fields at play, Look upward laughing at the smiling skies.
A breath of idleness is in the air That casts a subtle spell upon all things,
And love and mating-time are everywhere, And wonder to life's commonplaces clings.
The fluttering humming-bid darts through the trees And dips his long beak in the big bell-flowers,
The leisured buzzard floats upon the breeze, Riding a crescent cloud for endless hours,
The sea beats softly on the emerald strands— O sweet for quiet dreams are tropic lands!
Claude McKay
Other author posts
The Lynching
His Spirit in smoke ascended to high heaven His father, by the cruelest way of pain, Had bidden him to his bosom once again; The awful sin remained still unforgiven
Dawn in New York
The Dawn The Dawn The crimson-tinted, comes Out of the low still skies, over the hills, Manhattan's roofs and spires and cheerless domes
Courage
O lonely heart so timid of approach, Like the shy tropic flower that shuts its lips To the faint touch of tender finger tips: What is your word What question would you broach Your lustrous-warm eyes are too sadly kind To mask the me...
Futility
Oh, I have tried to laugh the pain away, Let new flames brush my love-springs like a feather But the old fever seizes me to-day,
