Claude McKay, "Jasmines" (1921)
Swiftly it overwhelms and conquers me!
Jasmines, night jasmines, perfect of perfume,
Heavy with dew before the dawn of day!
Your face was in the mirror. I could see
You smile and vanish suddenly away,
Leaving behind the vestige of a tear.
Sad suffering face, from parting grown so dear!
Night jasmines cannot bloom in this cold place;
Without the street is wet and weird with snow;
The cold nude trees are tossing to and fro;
Too stormy is the night for your fond face,
For your low voice too loud the wind's mad roar.
But Oh, your scent --- jasmines, jasmines. that grow
Luxuriant, clustered round your cottage door!
Published in The Liberator, August 1921
Also published in Harlem Shadows, 1922