M. Alexander
Anne Bradstreet &
Anne Bradstreet
Anne Bradstreet
Edward Taylor
Edward Taylor
Edward Taylor
Mary Rowlandson
Mary Rowlandson
Mary Rowlandson
Christopher Columbus
Christopher Columbus
Jonathan Edwards (Theologian)
Olaudah Equiano
Olaudah Equiano
Phillis Wheatley
Phillis Wheatley
Phillis Wheatley
Phillis Wheatley
Phillis Wheatley
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Henry David Thoreau
Henry David Thoreau
Henry David Thoreau
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Walt Whitman
Walt Whitman
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
Robert Frost
William Carlos Williams
William Carlos Williams
William Carlos Williams
William Carlos Williams
William Carlos Williams
William Carlos Williams
William Carlos Williams
Wallace Stevens
Ezra Pound
Ezra Pound
Ezra Pound & Li Po
H. D. (Hilda Doolittle)
e. e. cummings
e. e. cummings
e. e. cummings
Claude McKay
Claude McKay
Claude McKay
Claude McKay
Claude McKay
Claude McKay
Claude McKay
Zora Neale Hurston
Langston Hughes
Langston Hughes
Langston Hughes
Langston Hughes
Langston Hughes
Langston Hughes
Langston Hughes
Langston Hughes
Langston Hughes
Countee Cullen
Countee Cullen
Maxine Hong Kingston
Alice Walker
Allen Ginsberg
Allen Ginsberg
The Harlem Dancer is talking about a prostitute, where everyone is gathered around her enjoying her. She’s dressed with little clothes on and dancing sexually. Her voice was beautiful, and her skin color was black. While she is dancing and singing her shadows is moving with her. She had comfort in h...
Applauding youths laughed with young prostitutes
And watched her perfect, half-clothed body sway;
Her voice was like the sound of blended flutes
Blown by black players upon a picnic day.
She sang and danced on gracefully and calm,
The light gauze hanging loose about her form;
To me she seemed a proudly-swaying palm
Grown lovelier for passing through a storm.
Upon her swarthy neck black shiny curls
Luxuriant fell; and tossing coins in praise,
The wine-flushed, bold-eyed boys, and even the girls,
Devoured her shape with eager, passionate gaze;
But looking at her falsely-smiling face,
I knew her self was not in that strange place.
The Harlem Dancer was written by Claude McKay.