“The wine-flushed, bold-eyed boys, and even the girls,Devoured her with their eager, passionate gaze;But looking at her falsely-smiling face,I knew her self was not in that strange place.”Claude McKay The Harlem Dancer, l. 11-14
“The pavement slabs burn loose beneath my feet,A chafing savage, down the decent street;And passion rends my vitals as I pass,Where boldly shines your shuttered door of glass.”Claude McKay The White House, l. 5-8
“Oh some I know! I have embalmed the days,Even the sacred moments when we played,All innocent of passion, uncorrupt,At noon and evening in the flame-heart’s shade.”Claude McKay Flame-Heart, l. 26-29