Benjamin Griffith Brawley, "The Path of Life" (1902)
Its incense borne on the air,
The curve of a graceful petal,
An answering image there
The love of a life awaking,
The peal of an ancient reign
Some say that it leads to Passion,
And some that it leads to Pain.
The stifling odor of battle,
The sound of answering guns,
The slaughter of men in trenches
For a flag that onward runs,
The wail of far-off kindred,
A night when the dirges swell
Some say that it leads to Glory,
And some that it leads to Hell.
A scholar sitting at midnight,
And pondering mystic lore;
A woman toiling and suffering
After the day is o'er
Hopes that over the wrecking
Up to the stairs set aim
Some say that it leads to Heart-breaks,
And some that it leads to Fame.
Ayouth in the glare of temples,
A maid in a crowded town,
A mart where the blaze of splendor
Goes glittering up and down,
A woman eating an apple,
A man that burns within
Some say that it leads to Knowledge,
And some that it leads to Sin.
O, this mazy existence,
O, these passionate years,
When the heart is full and restless,
And the life we know not nears;
After the toiling is over,
What of the path we have trod?
Some say that it leads to Exile,
And some that it leads to God.
Published in Colored American Magazine, August 1902