James D. Corrothers, "The Psalm of a Race" (1903)
Whom an all-wise Maker gave
Sense and reason but to foretell
Him created a mere slave.
Races differ; but are equal.
Since the flight of Time began,
Each hath been some other's sequel
In the forward march of Man.
Oh, my brothers better favored
In this "Land of Liberty,"
Sorrow all the winds hath flavored
'Cross the gulf 'tween thee and me!
Must the answer be forever
To our hopes, as it hath been,
"Never, never, never, NEVER"?-
Oh, the doleful repeten'!
O my soul, what fears assail it
When that chilling word is said!--
"Never!" Oh, the night-winds wail it
In their requiem o'er the dead!
"Never"!--foaming waters sob it
To the wrecks along the shore:—-
"Never"!--All the sad drums throb it.
Marching to the battle's roar!
Say it not. Bar not, nor blight us:
Send, from summits where ye dwell,
Hopes, like torches, that may light us
From the labyrinths of hell.
And, my comrade, do not waver,
Tho' you be of trampled race,
Claim your birth-right, without favor,
"Till the world shall give you place.
Rise on visions sent to win you
From your languor and duress;
By the hope that lives within you,
God hath called you to success.
O, if looms Life's mount before you,
Towering terrible and vast;
Threatening loud to topple o'er you,
Muttering warnings of the past;
Do not tremble when you near it,
To behold its awful height;
Like the eagle, let thy spirit
Soar above it, in its flight!
Rills of joy flow down that mountain,
Gems of beauty cluster there;
Thou canst quaff there of life's fountain,
And breathe triumph in the air!
And when thou hast scaled the highest
Peak in all that mountain-band,
Help the comrade toiling highest
Mount it from the table-land.
God is just; and, with his own hand,
He will shape our destiny;
If our future be in this land,
Or in that beyond the sea.
Be it ours to watch and listen;
Calmly ours to meditate;
Brighter stars will rise and glisten,
Tho' their coming seemeth late.
Published in Colored American Magazine, March 1903