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


There's a soft rosy glow o’er the whole world to-day,
There's a freshness and fragrance that trembles in May,
There's a lilt in the music that vibrates and thrills
From the uttermost glades to the tops of the hills.
Oh! I am so happy, my heart is so light.
The shades and the shadows have vanished from sight,
This wild pulsing gladness throbs like a sweet pain —
O soul of me, drink, ere night falleth again!

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