African American Poetry (1870-1928): A Digital Anthology

Edward Silvera (Edward S. Silvera), "The Feast of Death" (1928)

You and I
At the Feast of Death,
When bidden by our unseen host
Will lift a common tankard high;
Yes . . . you and I,
We who are parted 'most
In breathless words
Will then exchange a toast. Our mutual fates We who are parted, most
We'll drink it dry,
You and I . . .

* * *

Arm in arm
We'll walk an endless aisle
When beckoned my The Great High Priest,
You and I Who love each other least.
Will kneel confessing all our sins,
And while the heavenly organ
Plays a solemn tune,
Absolved . . . forgiven,
Together we will commune
And pledge ourselves
To lasting unity
Before the altar of Eternity.

* * *

And the silent streets,
Unhoused by clan or caste,
Will hold two people
Gazing on a smouldering past.
Our worldly idols
Shall be broken down at last
   We will not stoop
   To build them up again,
   Gods of brass
   Are Gods of mortal men;
   We will be brothers
   Breathing spirit breath,
   You and I
   At the Feast of Death.

Published in Carolina Magazine, May 1928

This page has tags: