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Quotation by Countee Cullen
Inscrutable His ways are, and immune To catechism by a mind too strewn With petty cares to slightly understand What awful brain compels His awful hand. Yet do I marvel at this curious thing; To make a poet black, and bid him sing!
Countee Cullen (1903–1946), U.S. poet. Yet Do I Marvel (l. 9–14). . .
My Soul's High Song; the Collected Writings of Countee Cullen, Voice of the Harlem Renaissance. É Gerald Early, ed. (1991) Doubleday.
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