James Weldon Johnson, ed. (1871–1938). The Book of American Negro Poetry. 1922.

Turn Me to My Yellow Leaves

TURN me to my yellow leaves,

I am better satisfied;

There is something in me grieves—

That was never born, and died.

Let me be a scarlet flame

On a windy autumn morn,

I who never had a name,

Nor from breathing image born.

From the margin let me fall

Where the farthest stars sink down,

And the void consumes me,—all

In nothingness to drown.

Let me dream my dream entire,

Withered as an autumn leaf—

Let me have my vain desire,

Vain—as it is brief.