TO come back from the sweet South, to the North Where I was born, bred, look to die; Come back to do my day's work in its day, Play out my play -- Amen, amen, say I. To see no more the country half my own, Nor hear the half familiar speech, Amen, I say; I turn to that bleal North Whence I came forth -- The South lies out of reach. But when our swallows fly back to the South, To the sweet South, to the sweet South, The tears may come again into my eyes On the old wise, And the sweet name to my mouth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE GREAT DEATH by HAYDEN CARRUTH DAWN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON MY HAPPINESS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON PROMISE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DE LITTLE PICKANINNY'S GONE TO SLEEP by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON IN WALKED BUD WITH A PALETTE by CLARENCE MAJOR DOMESDAY BOOK: IRMA LEESE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: IMANUEL EHRENHARDT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |