Oh, a hidden power is in my breast, 
    A power that none can fathom; 
I call the tides from seas of rest, 
They rise, they fall, at my behest; 
And many a tardy fisher’s boat, 
I’ve torn apart and set afloat, 
     From out their raging chasm. 

For I’m an enchantress, old and grave; 
      Concealed I rule the weather; 
Oft set I, the lover’s heart a blaze, 
With hidden power of my fulgent rays, 
Or seek I the souls of dying men, 
And call the sea-tides from the fen,
      And drift them out together. 

I call the rain from the mountain’s peak,
     And sound the mighty thunder; 
When I wax and wane from week to week,
The heavens stir, while vain men seek,
To solve the myst’ries that I hold, 
But a bounded portion I unfold, 
     So nations pass and wonder. 

Yea, my hidden strength no man may know;
     Nor myst’ries be expounded;
I’ll cause the tidal waves to flow, 
And I shall wane, and larger grow, 
Yet while man rack his shallow brain, 
The secrets with me still remain, 
      He seeks in vain, confounded. 

This veil
Of lavender and dawn
Floats off
Invisible, 
And this of purple noon
Unwinds in wisdom,
Twitters, undulates,
Dips, darts, 
And this of night
Circles around me singing
To the very edge and presence of the young moon—
And it brushes the tip
Like lips
Three times.

With a ring of silver,

        And a ring of gold, 

    And a red, red rose

         Which illumines her face, 

The sun, like a lover

    Who glows and is bold, 

Wooes the lovely earth 

   To his strong embrace. 

^{To Principal Booker T. Washington of Tuskegee Industrial School} 

To you who now so nobly do 
     A noble deed; 
Who now instill the virtues true
    To virtuous need; 
Whose mission is so truly good—
So full of kindly brotherhood—
Who live the life you surely should—
     A trusty lead; 

Who early saw that skillful head 
     And skillful hands
Should, surely, be in union wed 
    'Gainst life's quicksands—
For people whose unhappy state 
Was, surely, in the hands of fate, 
Would make a combination great 
    As iron hands. 

Long may your daring presence live 
     And works instill, 
Long may your kingly reasons give 
    A forceful will. 
Long may your glowing, useful days 
Shine forth their bright illuming rays, 
And to gloomy lives always 
    A happy thrill.