Photo by Julie A. Royster, Raleigh, N. C.
Her work is done,
The setting sun
Throws twilight in her door.
Her work is done—
Her race is run,
Her friends have gone before.
“Mammy, goodnight!”
Heard she aright?
Low her head—and tenderly:
“Heish, chile, doan’ cry—
Sleep—sleep ‘bym-by!’”
Mammy and Memory.
John Trotwood Moore.