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         <titleStmt>
            <title>"Home Thoughts", from <ref target="http://harlemshadows.org">Harlem Shadows: A Digital Edition</ref>
            </title>
         </titleStmt>
         <publicationStmt>
            <publisher>This file is produced from the material at <ref target="http://harlemshadows.org">Harlem Shadows: A Digital Edition</ref>
            </publisher>
            <date>December 6, 2015</date>
            <availability>
               <licence target="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommerical 4.0 International</licence>
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         <sourceDesc>
            <bibl>
               <note>This file is generated from a master file containing the text of Claude McKay's 1922 collection of poems <title level="m">Harlem Shadows</title> and related documents (other appearances of McKay's poems, reviews, and related material). The base text for this file is drawn from the item listed below.</note>
               <author>Claude McKay</author>
               <title level="a">Home Thoughts</title>
               <title level="m">Harlem Shadows</title>
               <pubPlace>New York</pubPlace>
               <publisher>Harcourt, Brace, and Company</publisher>
               <date when="1922">1922</date>
               <biblScope unit="pg">11</biblScope>
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         <lg type="poem" xml:id="home-thoughts">
	    
	           <head>Home Thoughts</head>

	    

	           <l>Oh something just now must be happening there!</l>
	           <l>That suddenly and quiveringly here,</l>
	           <l>Amid the city's noises, I must think</l>
	           <l>Of mangoes leaning o'er the river's brink,</l>
	           <l>And dexterous Davie climbing high above,</l>
	           <l>The gold fruits ebon-speckled to remove,</l>
	           <l>And toss them quickly in the tangled mass</l>
	           <l>Of wis-wis twisted round the guinea grass;</l>
	           <l>And Cyril coming through the bramble-track</l>
	           <l>A prize bunch of bananas on his back;</l>
	           <l>And Georgie—none could ever dive like him—</l>
	           <l>Throwing his scanty clothes off for a swim;</l>
	           <l>And schoolboys, from Bridge-tunnel going home,</l>
	           <l>Watching the waters downward dash and foam.</l>
	           <l>This is no daytime dream, there's something in it,</l>
	           <l>Oh something's happening there this very minute!</l>
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