I Have A Rendezvous With

Never Love With All Your Heart, It Only Ends In Aching.

Not For Myself I Make This Prayer, But For This Race Of Mine That Stretches Forth From Shadowed Places Dark Hands For Bread And Wine.

The Key To All Strange Things Is In Thy Heart..../ My Spirit Has Come Home, That Sailed The Doubtful Seas.

If I Am Going To Be A Poet At All, I Am Going To Be Poet And Not Negro Poet.

We Shall Not Always Plant While Others Reap