Charles L. Mayberry, "The Day of Life" (1907)
At the dawn of a fair spring day,
As the golden king his rays dispatched
O'er the landscape far away.
I watched the radiant, sparkling beams
As they tripped through the dew-kissed trees,
While the birds in one melodious strain
Kept time to the rippling breeze.
Each outstretched field and stately hill
Was adorned in gorgeous green,
And the air was filled with fragrance rare
From the flowers that blushed unseen.
The shamrock peeped from its tiny cell
To salute the new-born day,
And the swift-winged bee stole a gentle sip
From the wild flowers by the way.
The gray squirrel whisked through the forest boughs
With a heart that was light and gay,
While the snow-fleeced lambs on the green hillsides
Took turns in their childlike play.
The sparkling stream with its merry din
Ran nimbly over its bed,
And the wild spring flowers waved a parting kiss,
Then blushed to a crimson red.
I stood with rapt'rous wonder stunned,
And thought of the Powerful Hand
That had brought into being this marvelous host
To enliven the beauteous land.
I came again at the eventide;
The sun was sinking low;
His fading beams like a fleeting life
Had lost all their noonday glow.
Each field and hill lay brown and bare,
Which once had been decked in green;
The trees of their foliage had been bereft—
Not a floweret gay could be seen.
No music rang through the forest boughs,
No sweet melodious chime;
The songsters, pierced by the chilling blast,
Had flown to a fairer clime.
Through tears I scanned the once strong oaks
That had stood for many ayear,
And I thought them a glimpse of our human life
When the close of our days is near.
But, ah! at the close of our day of life,
We from the grave shall ascend;
For the Powerful Hand that gave us birth
Will be with us still in the end.
Published in The Voice of the Negro, March 1907