Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
Booker Washington TrilogyVachel Lindsay
I
(To be read in your own variety of negro dialect)
L
His cotton-fields were the best to be seen.
He kept strong horses and fine swine.
He had cool jugs of cider and wine.
His garret was full of curious things:
Books of magic, bags of gold,
And rabbits’ feet on long twine strings.
But he went down to the Devil.
A snake-skin necktie, a blood-red shirt.
Legree he had a beard like a goat,
And a thick hairy neck and eyes like dirt.
His puffed-out cheeks were fish-belly white,
He had great long teeth and an appetite.
He ate raw meat ’most every meal,
And rolled his eyes till the cat would squeal.
His fist was an enormous size
To mash poor niggers that told him lies:
He was surely a witch-man in disguise.
But he went down to the Devil.
To capture his slaves who had fled away.
But he went down to the Devil.
Who prayed for Legree with his parting breath.
Then Uncle Tom to Eva flew,
To the high sanctoriums bright and new;
And Simon Legree stared up beneath,
And cracked his heels, and ground his teeth:
And went down to the Devil.
He went into his grand front room.
He said, “I killed him, and I don’t care.”
He kicked a hound, he gave a swear;
He tightened his belt, he took a lamp,
Went down cellar to the webs and damp.
There in the middle of the mouldy floor
He heaved up a slab, he found a door—
And went down to the Devil.
Simon Legree stepped down all night—
Down, down to the devil.
Simon Legree he reached the place,
He saw one half of the human race;
He saw the Devil on a wide green throne,
Gnawing the meat from a big ham-bone,
And he said to Mister Devil:
A raw ham-bone is surely sweet.
I see that you have lion’s feet;
I see your frame is fat and fine,
I see you drink your poison wine—
Blood and burning turpentine.”
“I like your style, so wicked and free.
Come sit and share my throne with me,
And let us bark and revel.”
And there they sit and gnash their teeth,
And each one wears a hop-vine wreath.
They are matching pennies and shooting craps,
They are playing poker and taking naps.
And old Legree is fat and fine:
He eats the fire, he drinks the wine—
Blood and burning turpentine—
Down, down with the Devil;
Down, down with the Devil;
Down, down with the Devil.
(To be sung by a leader and chorus, the leader singing the body of the poem while the chorus interrupts with the question.)
I’ve been to Palestine.
What did you see in Palestine?
I saw the Ark of Noah—
It was made of pitch and pine.
I saw old Father Noah
Asleep beneath his vine.
I saw Shem, Ham and Japhet
Standing in a line.
I saw the tower of Babel
In a gorgeous sunrise shine—
By a weeping-willow tree
Beside the Dead Sea.
What did you see in Palestine?
I saw abominations
And Gadarene swine.
I saw the sinful Canaanites
Upon the shewbread dine,
And spoil the temple vessels
And drink the temple wine.
I saw Lot’s wife, a pillar of salt
Standing in the brine—
By a weeping-willow tree
Beside the Dead Sea.
What did you see in Palestine?
Cedars on Mount Lebanon,
Gold in Ophir’s mine,
And a wicked generation
Seeking for a sign;
And Baal’s howling worshippers
Their god with leaves entwine.
And …
I
A
By a weeping-willow tree
Beside the Dead Sea.
What did you see in Palestine?
Old John Brown,
Old John Brown.
I saw his gracious wife
Dressed in a homespun gown.
I saw his seven sons
Before his feet bow down.
And he marched with his seven sons,
His wagons and goods and guns,
To his campfire by the sea,
By the waves of Galilee.
What did you see in Palestine?
I saw the harp and psaltery
Played for Old John Brown.
I heard the Ram’s horn blow,
Blow for Old John Brown.
I saw the Bulls of Bashan—
They cheered for Old John Brown.
I saw the big Behemoth—
He cheered for Old John Brown.
I saw the big Leviathan—
He cheered for Old John Brown.
I saw the Angel Gabriel
Great power to him assign.
I saw him fight the Canaanites
And set God’s Israel free.
I saw him when the war was done
In his rustic chair recline—
By his camp-fire by the sea,
By the waves of Galilee.
What did you see in Palestine?
Old John Brown,
Old John Brown.
And there he sits
To judge the world.
His hunting-dogs
At his feet are curled.
His eyes half-closed,
But John Brown sees
The ends of the earth,
The Day of Doom.
A
A
Old John Brown,
Old John Brown.
“And when the Queen of Sheba heard of the fame of Solomon,… she came to prove him with hard questions.”
[This chorus is an adaptation of the tune, You shall be free when the Good Lord sets you free. It is supposed to be sung at a camp meeting of thousands of colored people, the crowd weaving and dancing and humming after their accustomed manner.]
Interlocutor.The Queen of Sheba came to see King Solomon.
Men’s Leader.I was King Solomon.
Women’s Leader.I was the Queen.
Congregation.Y
Reigning on mountains green,
Happy and free
For ten thousand … y..e..a..r..s.
Field Hands.We were the oxen.
Congregation.Y
Walk dreadful roads no more,
Free from your loads
For ten thousand … y..e..a..r..s.
Women’s Chorus.We were the sweethearts.
Congregation—(delicately).Y
Cymbals shall sound again,
Wild-flowers be found
For ten thousand years … y..e..a..r..s.
Women’s Chorus.We were the swans.
Congregation—(delicately).Y
Fly in soft rings again,
Swim by cool springs
For ten thousand … y..e..a..r..s.
Interlocutor.K..i..n..g … S..o..l..o..m..o..n..
K..i..n..g … S..o..l..o..m..o..n …
Bowing most politely:
“What makes the roses bloom
Over the mossy tomb,
Driving away the gloom
Ten thousand … y..e..a..r..s?”
Bowing most politely:
“They bloom forever thinking of your beauty,
Your step so queenly and your eyes so lovely.
That keeps the roses fair,
Young and without a care,
Making so sweet the air
Ten thousand … y..e..a..r..s.
Field Hands.We were the sons.
Congregation.C
You shall make songs again,
Singing along
For ten thousand … y..e..a..r..s.
Field Hands.We were the ponies.
Congregation.Y
In forest play again,
Rampage and neigh
For ten thousand … y..e..a..r..s.
Bowing most politely:
“What makes the oak-tree grow
Hardy in sun and snow,
Never by wind brought low
Ten thousand … y..e..a..r..s?”
Bowing most politely:
“It blooms forever thinking of your wisdom,
Your brave heart and the way you rule your kingdom.
That makes the oak secure,
Weaving its leafy lure,
Dreaming by fountains pure
Ten thousand … y..e..a..r..s.”
Field Hands.We were the sailors.
Congregation.Y
Over the ocean’s floor,
Shipmates once more,
For ten thousand … y..e..a..r..s.
Bowing most politely:
“Why is the sea so deep,
What secret does it keep
While tides a-roaring leap
Ten thousand … y..e..a..r..s?”
Bowing most politely:
“My love for you is like the stormy ocean—
Too deep to understand,
Bending to your command,
Bringing your ships to land
Ten thousand … y..e..a..r..s.”
K..i..n..g … S..o..l..o..m..o..n.
Congregation—(rapidly, with heavy accents).The teeth of all his chiefs were set with diamonds.
Field Hands.We were the chieftains.
Congregation.Y
Dazzle the crowd again,
Laughing aloud
For ten thousand … y..e..a..r..s.
Field Hands.We were the shepherds.
Congregation.Y
Watching the folds at night,
Guarding the lambs aright
Ten thousand … y..e..a..r..s.
Bowing most politely:
“Why are the stars so high,
There in the velvet sky
Rolling in rivers by
Ten thousand … y..e..a..r..s?”
Bowing most politely:
“They’re singing of your kingdom to the angels;
They guide your chariot with their lamps and candles.
Therefore they burn so far—
So you can drive your car
Up where the prophets are
Ten thousand … y..e..a..r..s.”
K..i..n..g … S..o..l..o..m..o..n …
King Solomon he kept the Sabbath holy,
And spoke with tongues in prophet-words so mighty—
We stamped and whirled and wept and shouted, “Glory!”
We were his people.
Green trees shall deck your way,
Sunday be every day
Ten thousand … y..e..a..r..s …
K..i..n..g … S..o..l..o..m..o..n …
K..i..n..g … S..o..l..o..m..o..n …