James Edward McCall, “The Tell-Tale Face” (1906)
Through whichmess the spirit's ev'ry changing mien
Both show as plainly as do Time's swift feet,
Which fly beneath the clock's clean, crystal screen.
Whenever pleasure, part, despart in hope,
Dejection, gladness, sorrow, joy on care,
Essay as guests into the human heart,
The tell tale face proclaims that they are there
Yet there are scusouls when the countenance,
By power of a wary, subtle soul,
In forced to look serene and calm, although
Beneath its surface stormy waters roll.
The smiling face that hides an aching heart
Is but a lying servant, in fine gear,
Who stands within the doorway of the soul
And tells the world, “My master is not here.”
Published in Colored American Magazine, October 1906