Women of the Early Harlem Renaissance: African American Women Writers 1900-1922


The curtains of twilight are drawn in the west
   And vespers are sweet on the air,
While I, through my leafless, ungarlanded way
   But pause at the gates of despair.
Good-bye to the hopes that were never fulfilled,
   Good-bye to the fond dreams that failed.
Good-bye to my dead that has never been born.
   Good-bye to love's ship that ne'er sailed.

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