Georgia Douglas Johnson, "Prejudice" (1919)
Like noose-horizons tightening my little world around,
They still the soaring will to wing, to dance, to speed away.
And fling the soul insurgent back into its shell of clay:
Beneath incrusted silences, a seething Etna lies.
The fire of whose furnaces may sleep — but never dies!
Published in The Crisis, April 1919