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 | The book of American negro poetry, |  |
III. III
Exit
No, his exit by the gate
Will not leave the wind ajar;
He will go when it is late
With a misty star.
Will not leave the wind ajar;
He will go when it is late
With a misty star.
One will call, he cannot see;
One will call, he will not hear;
He will take no company
Nor a hope or fear.
One will call, he will not hear;
He will take no company
Nor a hope or fear.
We shall smile who loved him so—
They who gave him hate will weep;
But for us the winds will blow
Pulsing through his sleep.
They who gave him hate will weep;
But for us the winds will blow
Pulsing through his sleep.
| The book of American negro poetry, | |