For a Skeptic
Blood-brother unto Thomas whose
Weak faith doubt kept in trammels,
His little credence strained at gnats—
But grew robust on camels.
This poem is in the public domain.
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Once riding in old Baltimore,
Heart-filled, head-filled with glee,
I saw a Baltimorean
Keep looking straight at me.
1927
What is Africa to me:
Copper sun or scarlet sea,
Jungle star or jungle track,
Strong bronzed men, or regal black
Women from whose loins I sprang
When the birds of Eden sang?
One three centuries removed
From the scenes his fathers loved,
1922