Of the Wings of Atlanta


"When night falls on the City of a Hundred Hills, a wind gathers itself from the seas and comes murmuring westward. And at its bidding, the smoke of the drowsy factories sweeps down upon the mighty city and covers it like a pall, while yonder at the University the stars twinkle above Stone Hall. And they say that yon gray mist is the tunic of Atlanta pausing over her golden apples. Fly, Hippomenes fly, for yonder comes Hippomenes!"

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Look for the next Du Bois essay, "Of Alexander Crummell," on June 8, 2004. Happy Reading!
The copyright of the article Of the Wings of Atlanta in Writing from Harlem is owned by Nichel Anderson. Permission to republish Of the Wings of Atlanta in print or online must be granted by the author in writing.

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