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• 1 2022-06-11T07:51:02-04:00 Countee Cullen, "Three Hundred Years Ago" (1925) 2 plain 2022-06-11T07:52:33-04:00 04/01/1925
  Three hundred years ago there was a land
     And two who moved
  With one fair thought: meet hand in hand,
     And to be loved.
  Then came a ship and strange, pale men
     Who gave me drink
  That made me sleep; I woke -- and then -- 
     The broken link.
  I am nost sure that you were moved
    At all, or wept;
  For you were young and much beloved --
     Perhaps you slept.
  But there was blood, and sweat, and hell,
     And tears for me,
  Till one whose voice was like a bell
     Said, 'Go, be free!'
  The chains were off, but other things
     Still held me slave:
  A stretch of land where gray sand clings
     To a warm white wave.
  But more than this, there was yoru face,
     Beautiful and wise--
  Oh, I have sought them every place,
     Your face and eyes.
  Three hundred years ago, and yet 
     A day ago;
  There still the red suns flare and set,
     The dark winds blow. 
  
  Published in The Crisis, April 1925