God's Trombones: Seven Negro Sermons in Verse Book

I've had this wonderful little book on my shelves for years, but had never read it from cover to cover, and had never read Johnson's preface. Today I picked it up on a whim and read the whole thing in one short sitting. The poems, based on the style of African-American preachers, are excellent, entertaining, and moving. The preface is equally strong, making a case that black preaching is a folk art worthy of preservation.

See if you can read "Go Down Death - A Funeral Sermon" without getting a lump in your throat, no matter what your theology. Here's an excerpt:

And God sat back on his throne,
And he commanded the tall, bright angel standing at his right hand:
Call me Death!
And that tall, bright angel called in a voice
That broke like a clap of thunder:
Call Death! -- Call Death!
And the echo sounded down the streets of heaven
Till it reached away back to that shadowy place,
Where Death waits with his pale, white horses.

And Death heard the summons,
And he leaped on his fastest horse,
Pale as a sheet in the moonlight.
Up the golden street Death galloped,
And the hoofs of his horse struck fire from the gold,
But they didn't make no sound.
Up Death rode to the Great White Throne,
And waited for God's command.

And God said: Go down, Death, go down,
Go down to Savannah, Georgia,
Down in Yamacraw,
And find Sister Caroline.
She's borne the burden and heat of the day,
She's labored long in my vineyard,
And she's tired --
She's weary --
Go down Death, and bring her to me.