James Weldon Johnson, ed. (1871–1938). The Book of American Negro Poetry. 1922.
The Road to the Bow
E
After the black storm, the eternal, beauteous bow!
Brother, to rosy-painted mists that arch beyond,
Blithely I go.
Twined with immortal ivy for one little rippling song;
My “House of Golden Leaves” they praised and “passionate fire”—
But, Friend, the way is long!
Though Fear flaunt all his banners in my face,
And my feet stumble, lo! the Orphean Day!
Forward by God’s grace!
“Danger,” “Unprecedented,” and I hear black “No”
Still thundering, and “Churl.” Good Friend, I rest me here—
Then to the glittering bow!
Mailed Wrong, swart Servitude and Shame with bitter rue,
Nathless a Negro poet’s feet must tread the path
The winged god knew.
Forefend the anathema, following the span.
I hold my head as proudly high
As any man.