Again the Negro- Curtis 1917

Again the Negro
by Natalie Curtis
Poetry, Vol. 11, No. 3 (Dec., 1917), pp. 147-151

AGAIN THE NEGRO
A very real Negro Samson came "into my mind" as I read Mr. Vachel Lindsay's Negro Sermon in the birthday number of POETRY; for in my ears awoke the strains of an old plantation melody, Gawd's a-gwine t' move all de troubles away, whose verses tell of Samson with all the artless familiarity of the true folk-singer. And then Mr. Lindsay's use of the phrase, My Lord is riding high, vividly recalled to me the triumphant Negro song, Ride on Jesus, which probably originated in a "shout," as they called those exuberant melodies composed in the ecstasy of "camp meet'n," and was evidently inspired by the description of the Savior's entrance into Jerusalem, the hosannas, the palms, and Jesus riding on an ass. Both these "plantations," as the Negroes call the old slave songs, I first heard through a colored man from St. Helena's Island, off the coast of South Carolina, where the population is almost wholly Negro and the language and music typically "black." Though the songs, being genuine folk-songs, are common property, I made a careful record of them, wvords and music, just as they are sung by Negroes in the South, and these will be published in a collection for the benefit of Hampton Institute in Virginia.

Meanwhile it might perhaps interest those readers of POETRY who have been stirred by Mr. Lindsay's Sermon to meet in a purely literary form these two genuine Negro folk-poems. As the poems vere really conceived by their creators as songs, and the music forms an absolutely integral part of the rhythmic values, I shall italicize the accented syllables as sung, so as to reproduce the typical Negro syncopation of the melody, which, to the song-maker's mind, was one with the verse. (Not, however, that every Negro in singing, would stress the song in exactly the same way, for the freedomn of complete individualism is the inalienable right of every Negro bard!) Here is the first song:

Gawd's a-gwine t' move all de troubles away,
Gawd's a-gwine t' move all de troubles away, 
Fer Gawd's a-gwine t' move all de troubles away
See'm no more till de com-in'-day!

Now follow lines about Methusaleh and Nicodemus, and then the swiftly graphic verses devoted to Samson. All who are familiar with Negro folk-songs understand how subtly and delightfully the vowel a (pronounced ah of course), tacked on in front of a word or at the end of it, gives a needed stroke of emphasis, furnishes an introductory grace-note, or softens and binds in that fluency demanded by the Negro ear the sterner syllables of the English tongue. The graceful little word twill is a Negro beautification of our prosaic-sounding till.

A-read about Sam-son
From his birth
De stronges' man ev-er walked on earth!
A-read way back
In de an-cient time
He slew ten thou-sand Phil-is-tine.

A-Samson he went
A-walkin' a-bout,
A-Sam-son's strength-a was never found out
Twill his wife set down
Upon his-knee
"An' a-tell me whar yo' strength-a lies ef you-please !"

A-Samson's wife
She done talk so fair
A-Samson tol' her,
"Cut off-a ma hair
If yo' shave ma hade
Jes' as clean as yo' han'
Ma strength-a will become-a like a natch-erl man!

For Gawd's a-gwine t' move all de troubles away" -etc.

The effusion of Samson's confession to his "wife" is thor oughly Negro in its enthusiasm. Not content with telling her merely that his strength lies in his hair, he rapidly goes on to bid her shave his head. And as of course the tight curling Negro hair can hardly be much cut without shaving, we can readily sec that to the singer's mind Samson is indeed, as Mr. Lindsay states, a "Jack Johnson," a full blooded black Strong Man. The other song, Ride on, Jesus! is superb in the royal dignity and victory of its melody:

O, Ride on, Jesus,
Ride on, Jesus,
Ride on-conquerin' King!
Want t' go t' hebb'n in de mo-'nin'.

Ef yo' see ma Mud-der (Shouted by the solo singer.) (Oh yes!) (Shouted by the chorus.)
Jes-a tell her Fo' me (Oh yes!)
Fo' t' meet me tomorrow in Gali-lee
'Want t' go t' hebb'n in de mo'n-in!

Then come endless verses appointing a like meeting to father, brother, sister, deacon, preacher, et cetera. And next these glorious lines shouting a glad certainty of salvation, the services of John the Baptist being now unnecessary:

Ef yo' see John D' Baptist (Oh yes!)
Jes-a tell him Fo' me (Oh yes!)
Dat I's bin to de ribber an' I's bin baptize'!
Want t' go t' hebb'n in de mo'n-in!"

And at the last follows the sudden flash of imagery that so often proclaims the ingenuous Negro folk-singer a true poet:

Ef-yo' wanter go t' hebb'n (Oh yes!)
I'll-a tell yo' how (Oh yes!)
Jes' keep yo' han's on de Gospel plow
Want t' go t' hebb'n in de mo'n-in' !

Natalie Curtis