African American Poetry: A Digital Anthology

Will N. Johnson, "The Call" (1916)

Oh! the summer is soft and the breezes blow
Where my ship rides over the sea,
And the gulls still eagerly lead I know,
For my Love is Calling to me.
Oh! the mist envelops my wine-spent years,
And the ship of my hope goes down;
But my soul sails on thru the sea of tears
Where my Love’s sad Callings sound.  

Published in The Crisis. November 1916
 

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