Helene Johnson Poems

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The Sandman

He catches dust o' dreams to carry in his sack,
The dust a falling star leaves shining in its track,
He walks the milky-way, then down the dark-staired skies,
His tinkling footsteps hush the world with lullabies.

Ah my race

Ah my race,
Hungry race,
Throbbing and young-

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