“But you see dese darkies’ minds, suh,
Ain’t so flexerbul as dat,
Dey can’t zackly understand, suh,
What you means by saying dat.
’Hain’t but one compound solution
To dis problem, as I see;
Long’s a human soul’s a slabe, suh,
Ain’t no way to make it free.”
The young author of these selections, failing to get his book published, lost his mind and “disappeared from view.” So ends his story.
II. Leland Milton Fisher
Another sad story, more frequently repeated in the lives of the writers represented in this book, is that of Leland Milton Fisher. First I shall give one of his poems, as passionately sweet a lyric as can be found in American literature:
FOR YOU, SWEETHEART
For you, sweetheart, I’d have your skies
As bright as are your own bright eyes,
And all your day-dreams warm and fair
As is the sunshine in your hair.
The Fates to you should be as kind
As are the thoughts in your pure mind,
And every bird I’d have impart
Its sweetest song to you, sweetheart.
