Sewanee Hills of dear delight,
    Prompting my dreams that used to be,
I know you are waiting me still to-night
    By the Unika Range of Tennessee.

The blinking stars in endless space,
    The broad moonlight and silvery gleams,
To-night caress your wind-swept face,
    And fold you in a thousand dreams.

Your far outlines, less seen than felt,
    Which wind with hill propensities,
In moonlight dreams I see you melt
    Away in vague immensities.

And, far away, I still can feel
    Your mystery that ever speaks
Of vanished things, as shadows steal
    Across your breast and rugged peaks.

O, dear blue hills, that lie apart,
    And wait so patiently down there,
Your peace takes hold upon my heart
    And makes its burden less to bear.

From The Book of American Negro Poetry (Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1922) edited by James Weldon Johnson. This poem is in the public domain.

O day—if I could cup my hands and drink of you,
And make this shining wonder be
A part of me!
O day! O day!
You lift and sway your colors on the sky
Till I am crushed with beauty. Why is there
More of reeling sunlit air
Than I can breathe? Why is there sound
In silence? Why is a singing wound
About each hour?
And perfume when there is no flower?
O day! O Day! How may I press
Nearer to loveliness?

This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on March 22, 2020, by the Academy of American Poets.

O! my heart now feels so cheerful as I go with footsteps light
      In the daily toil of my dear home; 
And I’ll tell to you the secret that now makes my life so bright—
      There’s a flower at my window in full bloom. 

It is radiant in the sunshine, and so cheerful after rain; 
        And it wafts upon the air its sweet perfume. 
It is very, very lovely! May its beauties never wane—
        This dear flower at my window in full bloom. 

Nature has so clothed it in such glorious array, 
      And it does so cheer our home, and hearts illume; 
Its dear mem’ry I will cherish though the flower fade away—
      This dear flower at my window in full bloom. 

Oft I gaze upon this flower with its blossoms pure and white. 
        And I think as I behold its gay costume, 
While through life we all are passing may our lives be always bright 
        Like this flower at my window in full bloom.

This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on February 22, 2020 by the Academy of American Poets.