Brown, Hallie Q.
The Dunbar Home, Dayton, Ohio
159of a dear departed one--"the soul of a summer day, the breath of a rose, but the summer is fled and the rose is dead." It is a privilege to visit that mother who struggled to give to the world a song-bird, who toiled that he might have the advantages of an education--a boon she so greatly coveted--a birthright out of which she was so cruelly cheated.
In her presence one gets the impression that here is a woman of uncommon native ability. At an advanced age she is fluent in conversation which often sparkles with wit. She possesses, to a remarkable degree, the gift of story telling, accompanied by great drollery and mimicry--in fact she dramatizes, as she relates, by act and tone. It is not difficult to trace the poesy of Paul to this mother who, given a chance, would have been as great a woman, in the field of literature, as her son was a man.
Go on and up! Our souls and eye
Shall follow thy continuous rise;
Our ears shall list thy story
From bards who from thy root shall spring
And proudly tune their lyres to sing
Of Ethiopia's glory.