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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415693" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Piccaninny</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lo by the “humpy” door a smockless Venus!<br>Unblushing bronze, she shrinks not, having seen us,<br>Though there is nought but short couch-grass between us.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She hath no polonaise, no Dolly Varden;<br>Yet turns she not away, nor asketh pardon;<br>Fact is, she doesn't care a copper “farden.”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah yet, her age her reputation spareth;<br>At three years old pert Venus little careth,<br>She puts her hand upon her hip and stareth;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All unabashed, unhaberdashed, unheeding,<br>No Medicean, charmingly receding,<br>But quite unconscious of improper breeding.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tis well; it smacks of Eden ere came sin in,<br>Or any rag of consciousness or linen,<br>Or anything that one could stick a pin in.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Could boundaries be neater? posture meeter?<br>Could bronze antique or terra cotta beat her?<br>Saw ever artist any thing completer?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A shade protuberant, beyond contesting,<br>Where this day's 'possum is just now digesting,<br>But otherwise, all over interesting;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Trim without trimming, furbelow, or bow on;<br>Was ever sable skin with such a glow on?<br>So darkly soft, so softly sleek, and—so on?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Was ever known so dark, so bright an iris,<br>Where sleep of light, but never play of fire is—<br>Where not a soupçon of a wild desire is?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O swarthy statuette! hast thou no notion<br>That life is fire and war and wild commotion?<br>A burning bush, a chafed and raging ocean?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hast thou no questioning of what's before thee?<br>Of who shall envy thee, or who adore thee?<br>Or whose the jealous weapon that shall score thee?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hast thou no faint prevision of disaster—<br>Of dark abduction from thy lord and master—<br>Of aliens fleeing, kindred following faster?<br> <br>No faint forehearing of the waddies banging,<br>Of club and heelaman together clanging,<br>War shouts, and universal boomeranging?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And thou the bone of all the fierce contention—<br>The direful spring of broken-nosed dissension—<br>A Helen in the nigger apprehension?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nay, my black tulip, I congratulate thee,<br>Thou canst not guess the troubles that await thee,<br>Nor carest who shall love or who shall hate thee:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Recking as little of the human passions<br>As of the very latest Paris fashions,<br>And soaring not beyond thy daily rations!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Die young, for mercy's sake! If thou grow older,<br>Thou shalt grow lean at calf and sharp at shoulder,<br>And daily greedier and daily bolder;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A pipe between thy savage grinders thrusting,<br>For rum and everlasting 'baccy lusting,<br>And altogether filthy and disgusting;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Just such another as the dam that bore thee—<br>That haggard Sycorax now bending o'er thee!<br>Die young, my sable pippin, I implore thee!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why shouldst thou live to know deterioration?<br>To walk a spectre of emaciation?<br>To grow, like that, all over corrugation?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A trifle miscellaneous like her, too,<br>An object not “de luxe” and not “de vertu”—<br>A being odious even to refer to?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her childhood, too, like thine, was soft and tender;<br>Her womanhood hath nought to recommend her;<br>At thirty she is not of any gender.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, dusky fondling, let the warning teach thee!<br>Through muddiest brain-pulp may the lesson reach thee.<br>Oh, die of something fatal, I beseech thee!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">While yet thou wear'st the crown of morning graces,<br>While yet the touch of dawn upon thy face is—<br>Back, little nigger, to the night's embraces!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hope nought: each year some new defect discloses;<br>As sure as o'er thy mouth thy little nose is,<br>Thy only hope is in metempsychosis.<br> <br>Who knows but after some few short gradations,<br>After a brace or so of generations,<br>We two may have exchanged our hues and stations?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Methinks I see thee suddenly grow bigger,<br>White in the face and stately in the figure,<br>And I a miserable little nigger!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Should this be thus—oh come not moralising!<br>Approach not thou my humpy poetising!<br>Spare thine Iambics and apostrophising!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let subtle nature, if it suit her, black me,<br>Let vesture lack me, bigger niggers whack me,<br>Let hunger rack me, let disaster track me,<br>And anguish hoist me to her highest acme—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let me bear all thine incidental curses,<br>Nor share the smallest of thy scanty mercies,<br>But put me not—oh, put me not in verses!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She grins. She heedeth not advice or warning,<br>Alike philosophy and triplets scorning.<br>Adieu, then. Fare thee well. Ta-ta. Good morning</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Brunton+Stephens">James Brunton Stephens</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415693" data-title="A Piccaninny de James Brunton Stephens" data-description="Lo by the “humpy” door a smockless Venus!
Unblushing bronze, she shrinks not, having seen us,
Though there is nought but short couch-grass between us.

She hath no polonaise, no Dolly Varden;
Yet turns she not away, nor asketh pardon;
Fact is,..."></div>
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