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williamzzengg 's review for:
The Souls of Black Folk
by W.E.B. Du Bois
Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside,
And naked on the Air of Heaven ride,
Were’t not a Shame – were’t not a Shame for him
In this clay carcase crippled to abide?
And naked on the Air of Heaven ride,
Were’t not a Shame – were’t not a Shame for him
In this clay carcase crippled to abide?