Explore "The Octoroon" by Georgia Douglas Johnson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
One drop of midnight in the dawn of life's pulsating stream / Marks her an alien from her kind, a shade amid its gleam; / Forevermore her step she bends insular, strange, apart --
And none can read the riddle of her wildly warring heart.
The stormy current of her blood beats like a mighty sea / Against the man-wrought iron bars of her captivity.
For refuge, succor, peace and rest, she seeks that humble fold / Whose every breath is kindliness, whose hearts are purest gold.