Am flashing sparks of love across the sea
To Afric’s shore, where lies my destiny--
’Tis there my future brief sojourn shall be.
I’m pensive in this meditation’s swoon
To hear a whisper from her heaving breast:
I fancy she shall surely call me soon;
Then on my arm her sacred head shall rest.
O hark! I hear her calling now to me;
I must away! My soul’s at her command.
The fairest rose in bloom across the sea--
Oh, how I long to join her heart and hand!
How can I longer wait? I must pass through.
My yearning for the tryst is like a cry:
And she I know awaits the rendesvous.
Ah, to her sacred bosom let me fly!
Published in The Negro World, February 5, 1921