INFANT JOY
I have no name; / I am but two days old.
A little black thing in the snow,
Crying "weep! weep!" in notes of woe!
"Where are thy father and mother? Say!"--
"They are both gone up to the church to pray.
"Because I was happy upon the heath,
And smiled among the winter's snow,
They clothed me in the clothes of death,
And taught me to sing the notes of woe.
"And because I am happy and dance and sing,
They think they have done me no injury,
And are gone to praise God and his priest and king,
Who make up a heaven of our misery."
I have no name; / I am but two days old.
"Nought loves another as itself, / Nor venerates another so,
Children of the future age, / Reading this indignant page,
My mother bore me in the southern wild, / And I am black, but oh my soul is white!