{"id":66,"date":"2015-08-25T03:40:55","date_gmt":"2015-08-25T03:40:55","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/teaching.lfhanley.net\/eng528f15\/?page_id=66"},"modified":"2015-08-25T03:40:55","modified_gmt":"2015-08-25T03:40:55","slug":"claude-mckay","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/teaching.lfhanley.net\/eng528fa16\/texts\/claude-mckay\/","title":{"rendered":"Claude McKay"},"content":{"rendered":"

“Harlem Shadows” (1922)<\/strong><\/p>\n

I hear the halting footsteps of a lass
\nIn Negro Harlem when the night lets fall
\nIts veil. I see the shapes of girls who pass
\nTo bend and barter at desire’s call.
\nAh, little dark girls who in slippered feet
\nGo prowling through the night from street to street!<\/p>\n

Through the long night until the silver break
\nOf day the little gray feet know no rest;
\nThrough the lone night until the last snow-flake
\nHas dropped from heaven upon the earth’s white breast,
\nThe dusky, half-clad girls of tired feet
\nAre trudging, thinly shod, from street to street.<\/p>\n

Ah, stern harsh world, that in the wretched way
\nOf poverty, dishonor and disgrace,
\nHas pushed the timid little feet of clay,
\nThe sacred brown feet of my fallen race!
\nAh, heart of me, the weary, weary feet
\nIn Harlem wandering from street to street.<\/p>\n

“I Shall Return” (1922)<\/strong><\/p>\n

I SHALL return again; I shall return
\nTo laugh and love and watch with wonder-eyes
\nAt golden noon the forest fires burn,
\nWafting their blue-black smoke to sapphire skies.
\nI shall return to loiter by the streams
\nThat bathe the brown blades of the bending grasses,
\nAnd realize once more my thousand dreams
\nOf waters rushing down the mountain passes.
\nI shall return to hear the fiddle and fife
\nOf village dances, dear delicious tunes
\nThat stir the hidden depths of native life,
\nStray melodies of dim remembered runes.
\nI shall return, I shall return again,
\nTo ease my mind of long, long years of pain.<\/p>\n

“America” (1921)<\/strong><\/p>\n

Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,
\nAnd sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth,
\nStealing my breath of life, I will confess
\nI love this cultured hell that tests my youth.
\nHer vigor flows like tides into my blood,
\nGiving me strength erect against her hate,
\nHer bigness sweeps my being like a flood.
\nYet, as a rebel fronts a king in state,
\nI stand within her walls with not a shred
\nOf terror, malice, not a word of jeer.
\nDarkly I gaze into the days ahead,
\nAnd see her might and granite wonders there,
\nBeneath the touch of Time’s unerring hand,
\nLike priceless treasures sinking in the sand.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

“Harlem Shadows” (1922) I hear the halting footsteps of a lass In Negro Harlem when the night lets fall Its veil. I see the shapes of girls who pass To bend and barter at desire’s call. Ah, little dark girls who in slippered feet Go prowling through the night from street to street! Through the<\/p>\n