Within a native hut, ere stirred the dawn, Unto the Pure One was an Infant born Wrapped in blue lappah that his mother dyed. Laid on his father’s home-tanned deer-skin hide The babe still slept by all things glorified. Spirits of black bards burst their bonds and sang, “Peace upon earth” until the heavens rang. All the black babies who from earth had fled, Peeped through the clouds, then gathered round His head. Telling of things a baby needs to do, When first he opens his eyes on wonders new; Telling Him that to sleep was sweeter rest, All comfort came from His black mother’s breast. Their gifts were of Love caught from the springing sod, Whilst tears and laughter were the gifts of God. Then all the wise men of the past stood forth Filling the air East, West, and South and North; And told him of the joys that wisdom brings To mortals in their earthly wanderings. The children of the past shook down each bough, Wreathed Frangepani blossoms for His brow; They put pink lilies in His mother’s hand, And heaped for both the first fruits of the land. His father cut some palm fronds that the air Be coaxed to zephyrs while He rested there. Birds trilled their hallelujahs; and the dew Trembled with laughter till the babe laughed too. All the black women brought their love so wise, And kissed their motherhood into his mother’s eyes. Note: lappah--a straight woven cloth tied round the waist to form a skirt. Frangepani--An African flower. RAINY SEASON LOVE SONG Out of the tense awed darkness, my Frangepani comes; Whilst the blades of Heaven flash round her, and the roll of thunder drums My young heart leaps and dances, with exquisite joy and pain, As storms within and storms without I meet my love in the rain. “The rain is in love with you darling; it’s kissing you everywhere, Rain pattering over your small brown feet, rain in your curly hair; Rain in the vale that your twin breasts make, as in delicate mounds they rise, I hope there is rain in your heart, Frangepani, as rain half fills your eyes.” Into my hands she cometh, and the lightning of my desire Flashes and leaps about her, more subtle than Heaven’s fire; “The lightning’s in love with you darling; it is loving you so much, That its warm electricity in you pulses wherever I may touch. When I kiss your lips and your eyes, and your hands like twin flowers apart, I know there is lightning, Frangepani, deep in the depths of your heart.” The thunder rumbles about us, and I feel its triumphant note As your warm arms steal around me; and I kiss your dusky throat; “The thunder’s in love with you darling. It hides its power in your breast. And I feel it stealing o’er me as I lie in your arms at rest. I sometimes wonder, beloved, when I drink from life’s proffered bowl, Whether there’s thunder hidden in the innermost parts of your soul.”