Sorrow an’ song,
An’ it’s there I belong—
Lord, but I’m crazy to go!
BROTHERS AND SONS
On a dirty floor at a slimy bar in the ante-room of hell
I have seen them stand with a devil’s leer, I have heard the tales they tell—
I have heard them brag of the brutish things, I have heard them boast of shame,
Till I longed again for the Jewish God, for the God who smote with flame.
And I wondered much if there lingered still not a dream of boyhood land,
Not a tender thought of a mother’s kiss or a touch of sister’s hand.