Poems by Claude McKay
The Plateau
... That swung out of the clouds and swooned aloft, ...
The Spanish Needle
... Tell me, dear plant of my childhood, ...
The Tired Worker
... But what steals out the gray clouds like red wine ...
The Tropics in New York
... Fit for the highest prize at parish fairs,Set in the window, bringing memories ...
The White City
... The fortressed port through which the great ships pass, ...
The White House
... Where boldly shines your shuttered door of glass ...
The Wild Goat
... But the wild goat bounding on the barren hill ...
Thirst
... When day steals gray-white through the windowpane, ...
Through Agony
... And all my swarthy strength turned cold like steel, ...
To a Poet
... The people will not bear you down the street, ...
To One Coming North
... The cheerless frozen spots begin to thaw, Like me you'll long for home, where birds' glad song ...
To Winter
... I read these pregnant signs, know what they mean: ...
Tormented
... But when you're filled and sated with the flesh, ...
When Dawn Comes to the City
... Where the old draft-horse is neighing, neighing, neighing, ...
Wild May
... That you are feeble, weighted down with fetters, ...
