THE moon is full, and so am I; The night is late, the ale was good; And I must go two miles and more Along a country road. Now what is this that's drawing near? It seems a man, and tall; But where the face should show its white I see no white at all. Where is his face: or do I see The back part of his head, And, with his face turned round about, He walks this way? I said. He's close at hand, but where's the face? What devil is this I see? I'm glad my body's warm with ale, There's trouble here for me. I clutch my staff, I make a halt, "His blood or mine," said I. "Good night," the black man said to me, As he went passing by. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WHITE WITCH by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON MODULATIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE POET SPEAKS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON AND SO, I THINK DIOGENES by AMY LOWELL DOMESDAY BOOK: THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |