Esther A. Yates “Fettered Liberty” (1915)
To come so near, and yet not touch the goal!
To sight!
Its gleaming bars, like some pale pilgrim soul
Hails light,
After the weary night.
To feel the unbounded joy! My efforts crowned
At last!
Then strive to leap, and find my feet are bound,
And fast;
My short-lived freedom past!
To see my fond hopes crumble as do things In dreams;
My skin a burden that should serve as wings!
It seems
The earth with passion teems!
To live with the books, to teach my eager brain
To act,
And every noble power and gift to train
With tact–
Then meet this time-worn fact:
That prejudicial bars rise everywhere.
My race,
My barrier. For this my soul must bear
Disgrace,
And opposition face.
How long shall I restrain the hot life-tide
Whose flow
With just resentment surges? Must I bide
This blow?
And this? And this? And fearful hide?
And cringing terror show?
Or shall I let the prejudice of years
Go by,
With outward passivness, and inward tears,
And die?
Or leave unsatisfied my tears,
Nor even question why?
And this is freedom? This is liberty?
The place
Where justice reigns? “Home of the brave and and free”?
Look! Trace
The deepened furrows of servility
Upon a burdened race!
Jehovah, burn into our faith’s weak ray
Thy might.
We crave but half a chance to blaze a way
To light,
To dawn, from racial night.
God of a trampled race! We must, we dare
Be free!
Free, that we may be men! We leave our fare
With thee.
If only in the battles wear and tear,
Thou’ll lead our host through fog or noon-day glare
To freedom! Liberty!
Published in The Crisis, December 1915
Re-typed by Christian Farrior