Lizelia A. J. Moorer, "Prejudice Unveiled, and Other Poems" (1907)
PREJUDICE UNVEILED
And Other Poems
BY
Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
BOSTON
ROXBURGH PUBLISHING COMPANY
1907
CONTENTS
PREJUDICE
THE NEGRO SCHOOLS
JIM CROW CARs.
THE PEONAGE SYSTEM
THE SOUTHERN PRESS
THE SOUTHERN PULPIT
PHARAOH'S OF TO-DAY
THE DOOR OF HOPE
LYNCHING
RETRIBUTION
RUSSIA'S RESENTMENT
INJUSTICE OF THE COURTS
THE NEGRO BALLOT
THE EUTAWVILLE LYNCHING
IMMORALITY
THE TRUTH SUPPRESSED
THE CRUM APPOINTMENT.
LOYALTY TO THE FLAG
NEGRO HEROINES
WHY NEGROES DON'T UNITE
A NOTABLE DINNER
MISUNDERSTOOD
MUST BE FREED.
EMANCIPATION DAY
WHY IS IT?
THE VOICE OF THE NEGRO
THE PRESIDENTS DUTY, OR Truth at Work
A LEGAL MOUSE
WHY WE MEET
A DIALOGUE
LELA'S CHARMS
WHISPER WORDS OF LOVE TO ME
THE PRICE OF DISRESPECT
EASTER, OR SPRING-TIME
HALLOWEEN
CHRISTMAS EVE.
BIRTHDAY WISHES
BIRTHDAY WISHES
BIRTHDAY WISHES
ACCOMPANYing a Gift
ACCOMPANYING A GIFT
•THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE
WHAT WE TEACH AT CLAFLIN
CLAFLIN'S ALUMNI
SOUTHERN WORK OF DR. & MRS. L. M. DUNTON
DEDICATION DAY POEM
LINES TO A GRADUATE
THE BIBLE.
THE SOCIAL GLASS
THE CIRCLE
SYMPATHY
THE SOCIAl Life
REFINING FIRE.
BENEFITS OF Sorrow
AFRICA
MOUNTAIN TOPS
SONG OF THE ANGELS
THE CHRISTMAS TREE
IN MEMORIAM OF E. B. CLARK
THANKSGIVING
PREFACE.
As I view the ills that are thrust upon the Negro race, in a country whose highest virtue is freedom; as I note the silence of the press and pulpit, together with their lack of effort to remedy such evils and as I notice the compromise that is made with sin in establishing what is known as "white supremacy," my heart. is made to bleed. Like Lincoln, when he was filled with sympathy for the slave, I resolved at my first opportunity to deal the hydra-headed monster, prejudice, a blow.
When a Northern man comes South to study conditions, he largely meets the servant class of Negroes. With this partial view, he takes what is said by the Southerners and returns home to write on the vexed Negro Problem. When a Southern man writes, he largely eliminates the better qualities of the Negro and paints a pic- ture of him that is much akin to hades. Seeing that the one cannot get at the facts, while the other will not, I reach the conclusion that the story must be told by a Negro-one who is a victim to the inconveniences of prejudice.
Such feelings, continuously preying upon me gave shape to this little volume. I am anxious for the world to know the unvarnished truth of the matter and have accordingly placed myself on the altar of public opinion. If by this effort, the slightest sentiment is generated, tending to call attention to the open sore of the body politic, my prayers will have been answered.
THE AUTHOR.
PREJUDICE.
How strangely blind is prejudice, the Negro's greatest foe!
It never fails to see the wrong but naught of good can know.
'Tis blind to all that's lofty, yea, to truth it is opposed,
Degrading things will ope his eyes, while good will keep them closed.
How cruel, too, is prejudice! how wicked is the tongue!
The evils reign supremely there, the bad is ever sung;
With some the Negro needs a soul, with others he's a brute,
In silence those remaining live and naught of this dispute.
The schools it legislates against, in keeping Negroes down,
Whatever tends to elevate it meets it with a frown.
It gives to them the Jim Crow car and vessels on the sea;
It makes the stockade to exist and take their liberty.
It makes the press to vacillate up the Negro's name,
The pulpit makes a compromise with evil, for the same,
It makes the Pharaohs of today and seals them with its ban,
It strives to close the door of hope upon the Negro man.
It causes mobs to formulate, to come and go at will,
At morning, evening, noon or night, a Negro man to kill,
It brings injustice to the courts when NegrÉ” men are tried,
It wrings the ballot from their hands-a thousand wrongs beside.
It is the country's greatest curse, the nation's open sore,
It slowly saps the precious life, is poison to the core,
Such ravages gave certain death to nations in the past,
The same will lay this country low, its fondest hopes will blast.
It minimizes all that's good and magnifies the ill,
The devil's mission upon earth, it clamors to fulfill;
'Twas prejudice that caused the death of Christ upon the tree,
He knows the pangs that Negroes feel and gives them sympathy.
When men refuse to see the light a darkness is assured,
Such blindness comes upon the scene as never can be cured!
Contagious is the dread disease, for Negroes learn to view
The white man with suspicious eyes, but here's a thing that's new.
The Negro Problem of the land, and all the same entails,
Will be no more whene'er we find a sentiment prevails,
To bury prejudice so deep it never can arise
Till all the races of the earth shall meet above the skies.
'Twas God who made the Negro black, the reasons are His own
One blood the nations all the same, the facts are too well known,
He also made the Golden Rule, to use the neighbor well,
Shall prejudice among us dwell forever? who can tell?
THE NEGRO SCHOOLS.
Please be silent now, my country, while I fill the speaker's place;
While I point out some abuses that we constantly embrace,
Listen with your best attention to the words that I shall say,
How the Negro schools are managed, in this. Commonwealth today.
All the officers are white men and together they conspire,
To undo the schools for Negroes, of such deeds they never tire;
Oft we find among the trustees men who cannot read a word,
But when speaking of the Negro, they are certain to be heard.
Education for the Negro they discourage, and they say,
"It will bring dissatisfaction to such people ev'ry day,
Make them crave for something higher, such as white men should enjoy,
Which will spoil the other Negroes that we have in our employ."
Shorter terms are recommended many times as low as two
Are the months to Negroes given, in a year- now this is true,
Longer terms the whites are given in the same communities-
They conform to such a standard of the right with perfect ease.
Poorer pay to Negro teachers, driving good ones from the field,
Schools are let to lowest bidders to the same they're forced to yield,
Higher pay and better teachers for the white schools is the cry.
While encouragement is given Negro schools to starve and die.
Rural libraries established for the whites on ev'ry side,
But when application's made for Negro schools it is denied,
Thus they deal with education for the mass of Negro youth,
Posing still as great exponents and conservers of the truth.
From the sword of fierce Goliath we may all a lesson learn,
How while planning death to others on your head it may return,
In regard to schools for Negroes, cease their welfare to neglect,
For the same will come upon you in a way you least expect.
JIM CROW CARS.
If within the cruel Southland you have chanced to take a ride,
You the Jim Crow cars have noticed, how they crush a Negro's pride,
How he pays a first class passage and a second class receives,
Gets the worst accommodations ev'ry friend of truth believes.
'Tis the rule that all conductors, in the service of the train,
Practice gross discriminations on the Negro- such is plain-
If a drunkard is a white man, at his mercy Negroes are,
Legalized humiliation is the Negro Jim Crow car.
'Tis a license given white men, they may go just where they please,
In the white man's car or Negro's will they move with perfect ease,
If complaint is made by Negroes the conductor will go out
Till the whites are through carousing, then he shows himself about.
They will often raise a riot, butcher up the Negroes there,
Unmolested will they quarrel, use their pistols, rant and swear,
They will smoke among the ladies though offensive the cigar;
'Tis the place to drink their whiskey, in the Negro Jim Crow car.
If a Negro shows resistance to his treatment by a tough,
At some station he's arrested for the same, though not enough,
He is thrashed or lynched or tortured as will please the demon's rage,
Mobbed, of course, by "unknown parties," thus is closed the darkened page.
If a lunatic is carried, white or black, it is the same,
Or a criminal is taken to the prison-house in shame,
In the Negro car he's ushered with the sheriff at his side,
Out of deference for white men in their car he scorns to ride.
We despise a Negro's manhood, says the Southland, and expect,
All supremacy for white men-black men's rights we'll not protect,
This the Negro bears with patience for the nation bows to might,
Wrong has borne aloft its colors disregarding what is right.
This is called a Christian nation, but we fail to understand,
How the teachings of the Bible can with such a system band;
Purest love that knows no evil can alone the story tell,
How to banish such abuses, how to treat a neighbor well.
THE PEONAGE SYSTEM.
The religious wars of Europe have been numbered with the past,
But a worse thing, clouds has overcast, bright America with
'Tis the heinous contract system that plantation life contains,
Worse than slavery's conditions in a land where freedom reigns.
Negroes forced in one roomed cabins, mother's from their children torn
All the day till dark of evening from the dawn of early morn,
Sweet affection, thrift and neatness, all that perfect homes would bring,
Yea, humanity is buried at command of money's king.
Shall the future of the Negro by the white man be suppressed,
In his forcing from the present all that makes the future best?
Shall the training of the children be neglected? passing strange
Things material for the morals of the Negro they exchange.
Oft we find an overseer with a gun and club and whip,
Who at night within the stockade locks the Negroes, lest they skip,
If they offer a resistance for their treatment in this cage,
They are clubed into submission in the overseer's rage.
Some are kidnapped for the stockade, others taken there for debt,
Fed with only bread and water and for more they dare not fret,
They are worked like beasts of burden and the story here is told,
Of the sacrifice of manhood to a god that's made of gold!
'Tis an open, open secret how the white man without pain,
Sells the evil one his conscience out of greed for earthly gain,
Barbarism can't surpass it, races cannot lower fall.
'Mid this great enlightened country money's king rules over all.
If a farm hand makes an effort in the schooling of himself,
Or a mother will persist in looking up her little elf,
They must leave the old plantation for a more congenial clime,
"No enlightenment for Negroes," planters say, "'tis loss of time."
"Send to Africa the Negro," they have talked of such you know,
Like to England's Irish question, planters cannot let him go,
Hear the planter loudly singing, this the chorus of the song:
"Keep the 'niggers,' all the 'niggers' in the field where they belong!"
Now he pleads for better treatment, why dehumanize a race?
On the farm he's proved his service and there's none to take his place,
None to stand the heat of summer in the making of the crop,
Whites are taught to need his labor and they cannot learn to stop.
Sad, indeed, to find a nation, bowing down to money's might,
Sacrificing all that's noble, all that's beautiful and right,
"Righteousness exalts a nation," sin can only bring it shame,
Serve no other god, I warn you, in the God of heaven's name.
THE SOUTHERN PRESS.
When a Negro comes in question you may watch the Southern press,
See how bias its opinions, how his ills are given stress,
Prominence is given headlines, when accused he is of crime,
Emphasizes all the evils of the Negro ev'ry time.
If a white man comes in question you may watch the press again,
How its dignity it loses in a compromise with sin,
Down in some secluded corner you the story may behold,
Where the public may not find it, sadly there the tale is told.
It condemns the sins of Negroes which in white men 'twill excuse,
If a Negro's crime is grievous here's the head- ing it will use:
"He's a candidate for lynching," in a type that's bold and plain,
If a heinous crime's committed by a white man, "he's insane."
When the Negroes prove their manhood and their homes protection give,
They're pronounced as desperadoes and too desperate to live,
Nothing like its ever published of a white man, though his case
May be ten times more revolting and far deeper the disgrace.
At some public place if Negroes are mistreated by the whites,
When policemen won't arrest them or defend a Negro's rights,
Though the proof is overwhelming and the public ear it gains.
How conspicuous the silence that the Southern press maintains.
When a good is done by Negroes of the same you will not hear,
With their ills the press is busy and the good cannot appear,
Wrong, if found upon a Negro, will be charged up to the race,
But if white, with him 'tis ended, brings his people no disgrace.
See! the Southern press is bowing to a god that's made of gold!
And the populace is crying in a way that's passing bold,
"It must run to suit our fancy or the gold we'll take away!"
So the press can rise no higher than the common people say.
Humbleness will be exalted, exaltation be abased,
To the press it sounds a warning blest humility to taste.
Exaltation in a measure waves its banner over all,
But such pride will bring destruction, haughty spirits bring a fall.
THE SOUTHERN PULPIT.
The Southern pulpit, in our eyes,
Descends to make a compromise
With evil things in heaven's name;
The kind that brings a blush of shame.
The evils to the Negro shown,
His rights that Southern men disown,
We view with sorrow and distress,
Its lack of effort to suppress.
Prevailing thought it cannot cross,
If so, it feels financial loss;
The gold to it is dearer far,
Than all the rights of Negroes are.
It preached that slavery was right,
Upon the Scripture based its fight,
Why should we now expect a change
So radical? Such would be strange.
This pulpit fails to higher climb
Than sentiment. at any time.
Such grades of preaching cannot live,
The truth alone can freedom give.
THE PHARAOHS OF TODAY.
Pain and labor of oppression gave the Western world its birth,
From such shores the love of freedom ne'er should perish from the earth;
To a conscience that's awakened, these are words to make it start,
"Each oppressor of a human buys himself a hardened heart!"
'Twas the sixties broke the shackles from the body of the slave,
Which was only half his freedom, for his mind we now must save.
Liberty of his opinion, such as other people use
Give him all that makes for manhood, and the same he'll not abuse.
True, the God of ancient Israel loves the Negro of today,
Many proofs are had in common of the truth of what I say;
For the stronger the oppression made them multiply and grow,
Of the Negro in this country quite the same is true, you know.
"Give him freedom," says the white man, "will defeat our greatest plan,
With his freedom here's the trouble, he'll aspire to be a man.
Men will scorn to suffer treatment on the level of a brute,
Safest way to keep them subjects is their man- hood to dispute."
Ancient Pharaoh was a pagan, bowing down to wood and stone,
Deeds today of Christian Pharaohs would dis- grace the ancient throne.
Leaguers now with Satan's kingdom from their plans he never parts,
Such oppressors of a human pay the price of hardened hearts!
Pharaoh's cruelty in Egypt filled the Israelites with pain,
Thus his heart was fully hardened out of love for earthly gain.
For the same he met destruction; to his rashness it was due,
Modern Pharaohs, his example may a lesson bring to you!
When the Jews for wrong decided, then the nation lost its rank.
Rome, debauched in gross corruption, into degradation sank.
Sins of national importance bring calamities the same,
Just as true as it is ancient, sin will bring the nation shame.
THE DOOR OF HOPE.
The President has thus disclosed
In words his noblest plan:
"The door of hope shall not be closed
Upon the Negro man.
"His opportunities must be
With other men's the same;
As nation's chief I will not see
Him forced in ways of shame."
Official work he'd scarce begun
When from his lips did fall,
"A special right I give to none,
But equal rights to all.
"Square dealing for the soldiers true,
Who made this country grand;
But more than this no man is due,
And none shall less demand.
"I'm president of all the land,”
The broiling South was told.
"For truth and right I mean to stand,
Such policy I hold."
When urged to crush the Negro race,
He answered with a zest,
"All men of worth shall have a place,
True manhood is the test.
""Tis better all the people up,
Than keep a portion down,
You need, my friends, a loving cup,
Your prejudice to drown.
"The doors of hope are open wide
To all within the land,
With God forever on our side,
This sentiment will stand."
With spinal column stout and strong,
With arm that's made of steel,
He crushes prejudice and wrong,
And makes the demons reel.
To heal the nation's open sore
Of hatred for a race,
He wider swings the open door,
And bares the monster's face.
No president could stem the tide
Of opposition blind,
Since Lincoln for the Negro died,
Till Roosevelt we find.
Long may he live to bless the land
With truth and liberty,
Who for the right will take a stand
And set a nation free.
Then Roosevelt for nineteen four
Our president should be,
Who gives to all an open door
Of opportunity.
LYNCHING.
Have you ever heard of lynching in the great United States?
'Tis an awful, awful story that the Negro man relates,
How the mobs the laws have trampled, both the human and divine,
In their killing helpless people as their cruel hearts incline.
Not the heathen! 'Tis the Christian with the Bible in his hand,
Stands for pain and death to tyrannize the weaklings of the land;
Not the red man nor the Spaniard kills the blacks of Uncle Sam,
'Tis the white man of the nation who will lynch the sons of Ham.
To a limb upon the highway does a Negro's body hang,
Riddled with a hundred bullets from the bloody, thirsty gang;
Law and order thus defying, and there's none to say them nay.
"Thus," they say, to keep their power, "Negroes must be kept at bay.".
How his back is lacerated! how the scene is painted red,
By the blood of one poor Negro till he numbers with the dead!
Listen to the cry of anguish from a soul that God has made,
But it fails to reach the pity of the demons in the raid.
To a tree we find the Negro and to him chain beside,
There a horse to it is fastened and the whip to him applied.
Thus he pulls the victim's body till it meets a dying fate,
And to history is given a new scandal to relate.
Limb from limb he's torn asunder! See the sav- age lynchers grin!
Then the flesh is cut in pieces and the souvenirs begin;
Each must have the piece allotted for the friends at home to see,
Relatives will cluster round him, laughing, dancing, filled with glee.
To a stake they bind the Negro, pile the trash around him high,
Make the fire about his body; it is thus that he must die.
Burn him slowly, hear the lynchers: "That's the part we most enjoy!
Tell it out in all the nation how we killed a Negro boy!"
Savage mob a Negro's chasing, and to catch him must not fail;
If it does, another's taken, there to force from him the tale
Where the fleeing man is hiding; if the facts he cannot raise,
Though his innocence protesting, for the same by death he pays.
""Tis a Negro's blood we're craving; such will have at any cost;
We must lynch the one in keeping, for the other one is lost!"
This they say, and when they're questioned answer like this is the why,
"To the race at large a warning here a Negro man shall die."
O, how brave the Southern white man when, a hundred men to one,
Lynch a lone, defenceless Negro, when each lyncher has a gun.
If at midnight or the noonday, the result is all the same,
Law is powerless to hinder, and the nation shares the blame.
Lynchers go into the Senate and their savagery uphold,
How they shoot and butcher Negroes is the story that is told.
Guns and ropes they have in plenty, and, if necessary, will
Use them on an office holder, such a Negro they must kill.
How they clamor for the Philippines and Cubans far away,
While a worse thing is transpiring in this country every day.
In the eyes of such law-breakers lives a beam of greatest size,
That will hinder all the pulling of the mote from others' eyes.
Are the candidates for lynching always found among the men?
No, the fiends of human torture lynch a woman now and then.
Yea, the Spanish Inquisition insignificant will pale,
When compared with such atrocities that in the South prevail!
'Tis a blot on Christian manhood time, itself, cannot erase;
Human blood upon the conscience centuries cannot efface.
Simply to suspect a Negro is sufficient for the band,
He must die without a hearing, in a boasted gospel land.
Sowing antedates the reaping, and the nation should beware,
That the sowers to the wind will reap the whirl- wind everywhere.
Hark the cry! the blood of Negroes cries for vengeance from the dust!
How I tremble for the nation when I think that God is just!
RETRIBUTION.
When Egypt said, "Exterminate
The males among the Jews,
Fair Goshen's land make desolate
And bid them glad adieus:"
The darkest hour then was brought
Upon their slavery,
But God came down, with Egypt fought,
And made the bondsmen free.
No means of peace within the bout
Could pay the price-'tis plain—
The measure they had meted out
Was measured back again.
\For blood of Hebrews had been spilt,
And justice did demand
Egyptian blood to cleanse the guilt-
The firstborn of the land!
America! how canst thou tell
Thy tale of bondage sore?
How blood as rain from Negroes fell,
Till many were no more!
The blood of Negroes cried so loud,
For vengeance from the ground,
Till clouds of sorrow wept and bowed
And heaven's anger frowned.
No peaceful means, 'tis understood,
Could end the dread affray;
For justice cried, "Slave-owners' blood
In war the debt shall pay!"
The Negroes of the country now
Are held in open scorn,
To other peoples forced to bow,
Though often higher born.
To lynch a Negro is no crime,
The courts of justice say;
And so 'tis done at any time,
A mob may set a day.
The night is darkest near the dawn,
The voice of nature speaks;
The blood that's from the Negroes drawn
A retribution seeks.
"Revenge is mine, I will repay,'
The God of right declares.
The savage mob, with regal sway
A nation's curse prepares.
America! a warning take,
Repent! forsake the wrong!
Thine evil ways at once forsake,
Thy time cannot be long!
The morning star begins to rise,
The darkest night dispels,
Its ray of hope illumes the skies,
And precious dawn foretells.
America! rouse up! awake!
For God is living still,
Who will of wrong a sample make,
When sin has drunk its fill!
RUSSIA'S RESENTMENT.
At Kisheneff two wicked men,
In secret killed a child.
The blame they put on Hebrews then,
And sentiment went wild!
The Jews they murdered forty were,
Before they found the truth;
His uncle and the gardener
Had killed the little youth.
Such gross mistreatment of the Jews,
Their death by Russian mobs;
When such the Christian world reviews,
Its heart of pity throbs.
America a message sent
Of protest 'gainst the same.
But Russia said, "Till thou repent,
Don't speak to me of shame!
"If blind are leaders of the blind,
Both in the ditch will fall;
Till thou hast cleansed thy guilty mind,
Upon me do not call.
"When people live in homes of glass,
They dare not cast a stone.
The sins of others ever pass,
Till mended are thine own.
"The blood of Negroes cries aloud,
For vengeance in thy land,
And lynchers, too, thy borders crowd,
To kill on ev'ry hand.
"Begin at home, thy beam take out
And make thy vision clear;
Then other wicked lands, no doubt,
Thy messages will hear.
"No such a land can say to me,
Repent, and mend thy ways!
Thy lofty rank, thy dignity
Is lost in thy dispraise.
""Tis he alone that's free from sin,
The stone of censure throws,
Let charity at home begin
Before abroad it goes.
"O, land of lynchers, scorn to raise
Thy voice in foreign wrongs,
Till thou shalt change thy bloody ways,
Reproof to thee belongs.
"The wrongs of Negroes in thy land
By far outweigh the Jews,
Till these are cured, please understand
I thy advice refuse.'
America! thy Christian name
The pagans laugh to scorn!
Thy bloody deeds of open shame
Foretell destruction's morn.
Thy nation's lofty rank is lost,
Thy sins decreed it so,
O, land of lynchers, count the cost,
And counteract thy woe!
In thunder's tone, "Thou shalt not kill,"
From Sinai we hear.
Forevermore that echo will
Resound upon the ear.
Such bloody lands at once take heed,
The writing's on the wall,
So plain that he who runs may read,
"Thy tyranny must fall.”
INJUSTICE OF THE COURTS.
Whites alone upon the jury in a number of the states,
Thus they crush a helpless Negro with their prejudicial hates;
Legal ills they thrust upon him, and the tale is passing sad-
Equal rights with white men? Never! Color- phobia makes them mad.
'Tis the training of the children, every Negro to suppress,
They their spleen may vent upon him and be happy, none the less,
They will boast aloud in anger if by Negroes they are crossed,
"If we shoot or kill a Negro, not a cent will be the cost."
Juries represent the people and their sentiments make known,
When a Negro comes in question there's dis- crimination shown.
They are bold to make assertion that they will not do the same
For a Negro as a white man, and no feeling comes of shame.
Jurymen have made confession after trial had been made
Of a Negro, and "He's guilty!" was the verdict there displayed.
Stern remorse so touched the conscience, they the story did relate,
How the verdict they had rendered was to stay the dying fate.
"It was hard to say him guilty, for the man, we thought, was clear.
But a mob was making clamors that were ter- rible to hear."
"Punishment or death!" it shouted, and around began to press;
And of two impending evils, we have chosen him the less.
Thus we legalized the lynchers, we their words to court have brought,
And the innocent convicted! how revolting is the thought!
When a mob has forced a jury to a stand against the right,
All the waters of the ocean cannot make the conscience white.
Once a Negro girl was saucy, and the wife the husband told,
Who in haste arraigned the servant and began to swear and scold.
Then he whipped her without mercy-straight- way she to law applied.
Passing strange-they found him guilty, and the judge was sorely tried.
This he said, in making sentence, "No disfavor comes to you,
You have only done as others, or as I myself would do,
If your servants vex the mistress, thrash them out again, I say,
Go to jail ten minutes only, and a fine of five cents pay!"
If a judge is conscientious, then the people vote him out,
His partiality to white men they must know, beyond a doubt.
No equality for Negroes in the law the world must know,
If he fails to make distinctions, from the bench they'll have him go.
This injustice is a cancer, in the nation's breast it lives,
Quietly and unmolested, awful is the death it gives.
It results from color-phobia, which the God of right defies,
Slaves of prejudice, take warning! pause before the nation dies.
All the land is running riot, laws are trampled in the face,
Negroes must be law-abiding; whites alone the laws debase.
Wrong upon itself is coiling, hissing serpent of the times,
Whites in self-defense are crying, "Shield us from our people's crimes."
Barbarism fills the country, all for safety take alarm,
From the lowest to the highest, no one now is free from harm;
Anarchy is rife among us, all resulting from the same,
Gross injustice of the court-room brings the nation into shame.
Lawlessness is at a premium, woeful penalty it brings,
Relic of the middle ages is the present state of things.
To the winds we now are sowing, and the whirl- wind comes at length,
Evils cast upon the waters come again with added strength.
THE NEGRO BALLOT.
Can America be reckoned as the country of the free?
In the light of recent actions 'tis a truth that's hard to see.
It has taken from the Negro his protection, yea, his vote,
How oppressive is the finger that such cruel mandates wrote!
"Equal rights are not for Negroes; they shall never have a vote,
To supremacy of white man shall be raised the highest note.
Keep the black man from the ballot and we'll treat him as we please,
With no means for his protection, we will rule with perfect ease."
Those are words of Southern white men, backed, it seems, by all the land,
From the blacks they'll take the ballot, with their rights on every hand;
O, the maladministration in enforcement of the ills,
Thus they re-enslave the Negro till their cup of evil fills.
When appeal is made to Congress for protetion of a race,
They will promptly dodge the issue, saying, "This is not the place;
In the courts alone there's power to decide it for a fact,"
"We evade it," says the court-room, "Congress has the power to act."
So when Negroes cry for justice in this commonwealth of ours,
There is none to give an answer, none to regu- late the powers,
Congress claims no jurisdiction, and the courts declare the same,
None in all this Christian nation who will face the load of shame.
More than all the host of Egypt or the Canaan- ites of old,
Were the Jews when God was captain of the army, we are told.
Stronger than the ancient mountain of the waters of the sea,
Nature hastened to the rescue, making all op- posers flee.
Though Elisha, when at Dothan, was encom- passed round about,
By the forces of Benhadad, as he put the Jews to rout,
His protection came from heaven in the chariots. of fire,
Yea, the angels and the horses told the earth of heaven's ire.
When for God and right we battle, numbers cannot make a mark,
For while countless millions perished, eight were saved in Noah's ark.
'Twas the faithful few, my readers, who were found on holy ground,
That were saved, while all remaining in the raging flood were drowned.
Tell me not of shame or failure in a just and righteous cause,
For the right at length will triumph in the face of wicked laws,
Heaven still extends protection to the weak- ened and oppressed,
Who will cry to God for succor and relief when sore distressed.
Yea, the angel still encampeth round about when Christians fear,
To deliver them from evil and their souls to fill with cheer.
With the faith of ancient Hebrews should the Negro of today,
Ask the Maker for the ballot, and with courage wend his way.
If a fervent prayer is offered by a race ten million strong,
Telling of discrimination, persecution, hate, and wrong,
God will hasten to the rescue and the ballot will restore,
And reclaim for Negro manhood, equal justice evermore.
THE EUTAWVILLE LYNCHING.
(July, 1904.)
In the State of "Old Palmetto," from the town of Eutawville,
Comes a voice of pain and anguish that refuses to be still.
'Tis a voice that cries for vengeance for the wrongs it has received,
Yea, it asks a nation's conscience, When will justice be achieved?
'Twas a Negro and four white men that a fishing-party made,
In this party all the basis of a tragedy was laid,
One of them began a quarrel with the Negro of the crowd,
Told him not to think of justice, for to him 'twas disallowed.
Then they all began to curse him, in a shameful way to see,
Till the Negro said, "I'll spank you, if you do not let me be!"
For this threat he was arrested, and for trial was arraigned,
And it goes without the saying, it was by the I white man gained.
So Kitt Bookard there was sentenced, for that was the Negro's name,
To a fine of just five dollars, and condemned with all the blame.
When the fine he could not furnish, in the guard-house he was placed,
There in safety for the lynchers, who that night the town disgraced.
With the constable to help them and the marshall of the town,
Went the wicked fishing-party to the guard- house, with a frown;
They procured a bar of iron, gagged and tied Kitt Bookard fast,
And they took him in a buggy to the river, for the last.
"Say your prayers," the lynchers told him, "for to Jordan you have come,
Be in haste, for hour of midnight brings you to your final home.”
"If you'll spare me," said Kitt Bookard, "I will be your slave for life."
"Speak no more," the mob retorted, "with your blood will end the strife."
He was clubbed and mutilated, then the fiends put out his eye—
Any mob of heathen darkness would such shameful deeds decry-
Then with weights about his body, in the river he was cast,
Where his blood cried out for vengeance till a week and more had passed.
Bookard's family was anxious to procure him his release,
Through the night his wife was restless, and from worry could not cease.
At the dawn his brother hastened, "I will pay the fine," he said,
But he found the guard-house empty and as quiet as the dead.
Quick a search was instituted, all the Negroes, round about,
Volunteered into the service, bound to clear the place of doubt.
In the night a rain had fallen and no stirring round was done,
Save a buggy-track was leading from the guard-house only one.
Hurriedly the track was followed to the Santee River's brink,
And a dredging was decided when the Negroes came to think.
On the ninth day thus they found him in the silent river's bed,
Weighted with a bar of iron, mutilated, bruised and dead.
When the coroner was summoned and an in- quest was begun,
'Twas revealed in all its horrors, how the deed of shame was done,
'Twas a tale of barbarism that the press refused to tell,
How the mob with hellish fury did the work of demons well.
In the mob was found a witness, when the fiends were brought to court,
Who exposed the shocking lynching in a clear and full report,
All the details of the quarrel, and the fine Kitt was to pay,
Of his death in Santee River long before the dawn of day.
Then the jury left the court-room, just for four- teen minutes' time,
And returned to bring the verdict that would free the sons of crime,
"We pronounce the men not guilty," said the foreman of the crew,—
When the facts are given credance, this was thunder from the blue.
Now that mob unwhipped of justice, poses as the country's best,
Why, it only killed a Negro! let such matters have a rest!
Hark! we hear in half the country, "Keep the Negro in his place,
Violence we measure to him as a warning to his race."
To this day the blood of Bookard cries for vengeance, loud and long,
And the wailing reaches heaven, fills the ear that hates the wrong.
So the same can never triumph-punishment for sin is sure,
Tis God's world, and not the devil's; wrong enthroned is insecure.
While we feel that God is living, we our patience strive to keep,
Still the question comes with power, O, how long will justice sleep?
Those who die the death of Bookard, some sweet day revenge will find,
Nature's God reveals the secret, wrong is punished by its kind.
IMMORALITY.
Have you heard, my friend, the slander that the Negro has to face?
Immorality, the grossest, has been charged up to his race.
Listen, listen to my story, as I now proceed to tell
Of conditions in the Southland, where the mass of Negroes dwell.
Ev'ry city, town or county, ev'ry state on Southern soil,
Has mulattoes in its borders, found among the sons of toil.
Can you tell from whence they landed; or to whither shall they go?
Is the Negro race responsible alone, I'd like to know?
When a man among the Negroes is the least suspected there
Of an intimate relation with a daughter that is fair,
Then an angry mob arises and he answers for the same
In a death, the worst in cruelty the company can name.
Though the noonday sun is shining at the time the lynching's done,
Still the officers of justice can't detect a single one,
Who partook in Negro killing, for the deed no one is blamed,
And inside the nation's senate comes a voice, "We're not ashamed."
Is the same true when a white man leads a Negro girl astray?
When he takes away her virtue, is the same true? tell me, pray,
Do the press and pulpit clamor or condemn the mighty wrong?
there sentiment against it? is the burden of my song.
When the case is thus presented, they are silent as the grave,
And the law at once is powerless a Negro's name to save,
So you see the same continues and the truth is like a flood,
That in veins of Southern Negroes flow the best of Southern blood.
Can you tell of these mulattoes, did they fall here from the sky?
How is this that they're among us? can you tell the reason why?
Who's to blame for their existence? is the Negro race alone?
If there are such freaks in nature it is time to make them known.
'Tis a custom born of slavery when master's law and might,
Was enforced upon the bondsman without question of the right,
And the parson preached on Sunday how the servant should obey
All the mandates of the master, let them be whate'er they may.
O, how sad the tales of bondage when persuasive measures failed,
How they tortured Negro women till their hellish plans prevailed!
Women faithful to their virtue were as martyrs sent to rest,
Others yielded to the tempter, weary, helpless and distressed.
So the spirit lives at present for the master hand to rule,
or housemaid passes through this training school,
Lo! the greatest of temptations, men and devils there invent,
Cook or washer, nurse
And present them to the servants, on their ruin so intent.
There's no friend to whom the dusky maiden can appeal for aid,
To the mistress of the home to speak of such she is afraid,
In the law there's no protection that a Negro girl can claim,
None to rescue, none to pity, so she enters into shame.
Now reflect for just a moment, in the light of what you see,
Which is worse, to yield the tempter or the evil one to be?
Can you still believe that Negroes are immoral more than whites?
O, how different the picture if the Negro had his rights!
There's a God who rules in justice, one who feels his children's pain,
So we know that sin and darkness cannot always hope to reign,
All the ills to Negro women will the Father bring to light,
For the Judge, the only Judge of all creation will do right.
THE TRUTH SUPPRESSED.
Why do people sit in darkness as regards the Negro race?
Why so ignorant are nations of conditions in the case?
'Tis because the facts are strangled by a prejudice intense,
Truth is murdered in the forum when she cries in his defence.
If a white man braves the tempest and takes up the Negro's cause,
Thus exposing to the country the injustice of its laws,
He is met with ostracism and consigned to deep disgrace,
He is branded as a traitor to himself and to his race.
Did you know that Sledd of Oxford, his pro- fessorship resigned,
When he gave the press an outline of how Negroes are maligned,
When the world he gave the story of their wrongs on ev'ry hand,
And rebuked his brother white man for sup- porting such a stand?
Have you heard the tale of Bassett's being taken up and tried,
By the trustees of his college and the public too, beside?
He evoked the shaft of censure such as mad men would decree,
Just for writing good opinions of a Negro, don't you see?
We esteem the two professors being natives of the South,
Who would follow their convictions in the face of censure's mouth,
At a risk of their positions, prizing justice more than gold,
Such a sacrifice we'll cherish till the night away has rolled.
Manhood now is at a premium that such risky things will do,
When the life is so endangered from a social point of view,
'Tis a milestone of advancement when a Bas- sett or a Sledd
Rises higher than surroundings, up above the critic's dread.
If the North its grief expresses, as it views the ill so rife,
It is promptly called a meddler, an engenderer of strife,
Then the politicians clamor, while the press takes up the song,
And the people join the chorus in denouncing such a wrong.
We are proud of sympathizers in the great unequal fight,
In the struggle for true manhood and for triumph of the right,
'Tis exposure maims the evils as they viciously unfold,
So his sufferings, unvarnished, by the Negro must be told.
Truth has perished as a martyr, in her grave she's laid to rest,
Though she never fails of rising when the Father thinketh best,
Soon there'll be a resurrection and conditions 'twill expose,
That will bring the Negro's manhood in the midst of wicked foes.
THE CRUM APPOINTMENT.
You, no doubt, have heard the story told of Charleston by the sea,
How they persecute a Negro when a man he tries to be,
'Tis of national importance and the world en- joys the sport,
Caused by William Crum's appointment as col- lector of the port.
When the president decided to appoint him to the place,
Then a train of opposition from the city set apace,
"Our objection to a Negro," said the whites, "has ever been,
That we fear contamination from the color of his skin."
.This the president dishonored, then they brought another plea,
"To the great and grand old party, he has faith- less proved to be,"
Crum his loyalty established and the fallacy Declared,
Brought McComas to his rescue and the prejudice was bared.
To the friends within the senate they directed their appeal,
To defeat his confirmation and suppress a Negro's weal,
For a time the plan succeeded, thus a vote was thwarted twice-
He was promptly re-appointed till the same was numbered thrice.
Then they tried intimidation, told him how the race would lose
All the favors of the white man, and between these he must choose,
They persuaded and they threatened, aye, the Southern press was wild,
In denouncing such an outrage, how the city was defiled!
He with patience bore their envy, heard the clamor and the din,
Ev'ry accusation answered, save the color of his skin,
As a pillar of Gibraltar, he in firmness took a stand,
Braved the storm of opposition like a Moses of the land.
When at length he was commissioned, great, indeed, the city's change,
'Twas a hundred, aye, and fifty that applied for work! how strange!
'Twas the very class of people that his color filled with dread
Who then asked for sub-positions, though a Negro man was head.
Then a telegram was brought him saying, salary was paid,
To no one who was appointed when the senate gave no aid,
Equal to the dire occasion, he made answer, "T no test,
Till the government shall warn me I'll take chances with the rest."
Now contamination's mountain sinks away to common dust,
They are not afraid of Negroes but desire the place of trust,
They want Negroes to be servants and their bosses to be white,
Prejudice distorts their visions and they cannot see the right.
LOYALTY TO THE FLAG.
In the love of home and country and the flag of Uncle Sam,
Can the loyalty be doubted of a dusky son of Ham?
Wheresoever duty calls him, as a freedman or a slave,
The response is ever hearty when "Old Glory" he would save.
'Twas the war of Revolution, when a Negro's blood was first,
To be shed for independence, when a yoke the land had cursed;
Crispus Attucks died in Boston, on State street he paid the debt,
Liberty his blood has planted and the tree is growing yet.
Ask the spirit of Pitcairn how he came to meet his death?
Where and who it was that brought him down to breathe the dying breath?
'Twas the Negro Salem's bullet at the charge of Bunker's Hill,
Bringing to the whites their freedom but to Negroes naught but ill.
In the battle of New Orleans, eighteen fourteen was the year,
When the Negro fought with valor till the victory was clear;
Jackson paid this glowing tribute-may the spirit never lag-
"None more strong and none more useful, none more loyal to the flag."
O, how brave the Negro soldiers when the Civil war was fought!
Shall they fight such noble battles in the nation's cause for naught?
Hark! the battle cry of Charleston! at Fort Wagner is the place!
At Port Hudson and Fort Pillow how the rebel guns they face!
Fifty-fourth of Massachusetts-may such regiments be praised—
By its valor at Fort Wagner, North and South became amazed!
Hall began as color-bearer but was killed on duty grand,
To the spot went William Carney and the colors took in hand.
Wounded many times was Carney, shot in head, in arm and thigh,
On one knee he fell and crawling kept the colors flying high,
Blood upon the banner streaming while his words the action crowned;
"Boys I've kept aloft 'Old Glory' and it never touched the ground!"
Colonel Stafford was disabled, Dwight his men to battle led,
With great feeling at New Orleans, Stafford to the sergeant said,
"Guard, protect defend these colors," "Yes," he answered, "though I die
I will bring them back in honor or to God re- port the why."
All the world has heard the story of the Cuban war with Spain,
Ah! the sound of Negro valor falls upon the ear again,
At Elkaney and San Juan how they helped to win the day,
Near the town of Santiago, held the enemy at bay!
Side by side with other soldiers being in complexion white,
Negroes died to take San Juan in the thickest of the fight,
Thus they gained the worthy plaudit from the loyal, brave and true;
"Negroes on the field of battle, dignify the nation's blue."
Shall the prejudice existing in the country now, increase,
While the Negro's patriotism merits rest at home and peace?
Nay, the hydra-headed monster in the end will surely die,
We expect the right to triumph over evil by and by.
NEGRO HEROINES.
Down in history we find it and in grandest works of art,
How the men on fields of battle play so well the soldier's part,
But I come to tell the story of relief from care and pain
Rendered them by Negro women in the Cuban War with Spain.
When the scourge of yellow fever fell upon the boys in blue
And the nation stood in wonder scarcely knowing what to do,
There was found a Negro woman, Mrs. Curtis was her name,
Wife, she was, of a physician with the highest social fame.
When the name of Mrs. Curtis fell upon the nation's ear
And her worth on such occasions had been shown in language clear,
She was summoned by McKinley to the White House-there to plan
How to change the dread condition; how to stay the soldier's ban.
By him there she was commissioned, given fullest oversight
Of relieving fever-stricken in the famous Cuban fight;
With a confidence unfailing, she her preparations made-
Uncle Sam his backing promised true success could not be stayed.
When a call she made for helpers, from the nation's busy throng,
The response from Negro nurses came three hundred eighty strong,
In the Catholics were also, found one hundred twenty nuns,
Who would brave the field as nurses for the fever-stricken ones.
In this noble work of mercy were their duties done so well
That a halo of enchantment round them all is made to dwell,
When we search the war department no com- plaint of them is found,
Not a word to their discredit and to truth that record's bound.
While upon the field of battle helping stem the fever's tide,
While upon that angel mission seven Negro nurses died,
In this work the nuns had fallen till the same had numbered four;
Thus on snowy, angel pinions they the news to heaven bore.
When our boys had thrashed the Spaniards, Mrs. Curtis straightway sent
A petition into congress praying that a monument
Be at Arlington erected out of sacred memory
Of the nurses who in Cuba died to make the island free.
Mrs. Curtis went in person, she in congress did appear,
Told the story of her labors, of her precious deeds of cheer,
She convincingly impressed it in the nation's congress true,
That for those who fell on duty still a monument was due.
An apportionment by congress for the same at once was made,
Yea, to make a fit memorial for the nation's honored dead;
Twenty-five will name the thousands of the dol- lars that were spent-
In the nation's cemetery stands the nurses' monument.
Mrs. Curtis and her nurses have been valiant in the strife,
May such heroines be favored with a long and happy life;
In the face of such achievements on the nation's battle field,
Prejudice is made to tremble, partly too, his lips are sealed.
WHY NEGROES DON'T UNITE.
Why of all the many races in the country where we live,
Do we find so little union as the Negro race can give?
Is it lack of love? or color? who will give the reason true,
Why they cherish opposition more than other peoples do?
We'll examine for a moment, how the Negro race is made,
Now, we find them all complexions, any hue and ev'ry shade,
Scraps of all the human races in among them we can find,
All the many dispositions, ev'ry nation of its kind.
Ev'ry tribe will hang together, though among the Negroes found,
Which will bring about dissensions, on all questions that abound,
Ev'ry blood must have a "say so," red or yellow, white or black,
Differ always in opinion, racial union always lack.
Hark! the whites of this assembly to a special plan agree,
Lo! the red men now are holding their opinion, don't you see?
Aye, the blacks must have a hearing in the question of today,
Yellow folks compose a factor and the same will have a say.
Scripture tells how Ham was tickled by the shame of Noah's plight,
How his brothers with a mantle shielded Noah from the light,
Now we find that Ham's descendants keep disgraces well exposed,
While the children of the others keep a shameful secret closed.
From inheritance the Negro gets his levity and mirth,
More than any other species of the races of the earth,
He rejoices in reporting what will bring his neighbor shame,
Charity extends her mantle and the others cover blame.
When the race discards the fragments, by the others thrown aside,
And suppresses altogether sinful levity and pride,
Then begins a cultivation of a union of the race,
That will strengthen all its borders which for naught will yield apace.
A NOTABLE DINNER.
Once the nation's chief was honored by the company of one,
Who to lift a fallen people had a work of worth begun,
Lofty things had he accomplished for a race so long despised,
In a land where naught but color by the whites are ever prized.
Booker Washington, the teacher, with the president has dined,
Southern whites it gave convulsions, for to such they're not inclined,
'Tis the color, not achievements, that their fancies recognize,
Whites alone receive their plaudits, Negro, worth they will not prize.
Roosevelt was censured sorely, half the country writhed and hissed,
Just because he shared his dinner with a Negro, -there's the gist-
'Twas the manhood not the color that the president admired,
Souls of worth demand attention, only such his mind desired.
"Down with Washington the 'nigger' and with. Roosevelt, because
He has made of him an equal-how offensive to our laws,
Worthy deeds are not for black men" is the constant cry they raise,
"All advancement of such people brings proportionate dispraise."
Hark! the press begins to clamor, to the South it says "beware!
Lest equality with 'niggers' in the end we'll have to share;
Anti-nigger is our platform, how to crush a 'nigger' man,
Officers must be elected as resulting from this plan."
Washington is far above him-any man who fails to see,
Good when found upon a Negro, from a lack of charity,
See the Southern degradation! view the monster once again,
How it measures deeds of merit by the color of the skin.
Roosevelt was very careful on the choosing of a guest,
Here is what, he did for Tillman, in his zeal to have the best,
Cancelled out his invitation and his company refused,
Dined the best of peoples only-other classes he excused.
Down with prejudice and envy! should be wafted to the breeze,
For the Southern slaves of fashion need a prompt and sure release,
In the teachings of the Master while the path of earth He trod,
We've a brotherhood of races and a Fatherhood of God.
MISUNDERSTOOD.
The ills of all the human race,
The woes of earth that bring disgrace
Would banish, if we only could,
Escape the fiend, Misunderstood.
When Eve and Adam pure and good,
The law divine misunderstood,
A downward course was then begun,
A race that all the earth must run.
The thought is sad, indeed, though true,
That sinners reap in season due,
The fruits of all they sow, and should,
For down in hell they're understood.
The infidels of giant brain,
Would save themselves a deal of pain,
By claiming truth, if such they could,
But they alas! misunderstood.
The wars that devastate the land,
The reason men for wrong will stand,
They have somewhere in seeking good,
The law of right misunderstood.
In harshness do we estimate,
The neighbors oft we underrate,
The scene would change if nature could,
The monster bare, Misunderstood.
The Negro Problem of the times,
Which breeds the most atrocious crimes,
Survives, because in crushing good,
The Golden rule's misunderstood.
The Savior's work on earth was one,
Of building up where sin had run,
He gave to all the highest good,
But passed through life misunderstood.
We long to rest when time is o'er,
In that beyond for evermore,
The habitation of the good,
Above the fiend, Misunderstood.
MUST BE FREED.
The ante-bellum Negro prayed,
For God to intercede,
And God in answer to him said,
"Your children shall be freed."
The hand was seen upon the wall,
The fates at once decreed
That Negro bondsmen one and all,
Should soon be free, indeed.
"If Abraham Lincoln's president"
The South said, "we'll secede;"
They apprehended he'd consent,
For Negroes to be freed.
To battle North against the South,
O'er states rights was agreed,
But echo from the cannon's mouth,
Said, "Negroes must be freed."
Confed'rates did with marked success,
McClellan's steps impede,
Till Abr'm Lincoln did confess,
That Negroes must be freed.
The Union boys with heaven's strength,
From that time did succeed;
And fought with valor till at length,
The Negro slaves were freed.
The Jim Crow car for Negroes made,
To crush their pride, indeed,
Has on the harps of thinkers played,
Those people must be freed.
The right of suffrage from the men,
Is taken out of greed;
A better day is coming when
They shall from this be freed.
Black men before the lyncher's rope,
In vain for mercy plead,
But justice cries, "There is a hope,
From such you shall be freed."
From ignorance and poverty,
From superstition's creed,
From those who crush his liberty,
The Negro must be freed.
The hand has written on the wall,
The clouds must all recede,
For God Whose word can never fall,
Says, "Negroes must be freed."
EMANCIPATION DAY.
The sixties brought a clash of arms-
The mem'ry of it thrills and charms-
While Negro slaves for freedom prayed,
Till Heaven bowed to give them aid.
The God of nations-God of right-
Kept back success within the fight,
Till Lincoln vowed on bended knee,
To set the Negro bondsmen free.
The first of January, see!
In eighteen hundred sixty three,
The first Emancipation Day,
When mad oppressors lost their sway.
The sun of freedom rose that day,
The night of bondage drove away,
When sainted Lincoln did decree,
That slaves forever should be free.
As years of time have come and gone,
For each the Negro race has borne,
Abundant fruit in freedom's name,
That will not bring the nation shame.
Emancipation Day, so great!
With joy we meet to celebrate,
The Sun of Righteousness we hail,
Who died that freedom might prevail.
WHY IS IT?
Why is it so, Dear Prince of Peace,
That wrongs to Negroes never cease?
Are they disloyal to thy name,
And thus are punished for the same?
Is this thy training school on earth,
To mould a race of truest worth?
Pray is it thus that lives are pruned
And sanctified, for heaven tuned?
Thou art the refuge of the race,
That all its troubles will efface,
Wilt thou incline the wayward heart,
To keep thy law in ev'ry part?
'Tis needful that offences come,
But woe unto the man by whom!
They come the evil hearts to chain,
And drive them back to thee again.
For such afflictions, we are told,
Bring people nearer to the fold,
If this be true, then teach them now,
To such conditions here to bow.
Thy chosen people suffer here,
Such chastenings as children, dear,
With patience sweet, in peace and love,
Prepare their souls for life above.
They suffer from refining pains,
The kinds that raise to highest planes,
Can this be why, Dear Prince of Peace,
That wrongs to Negroes never cease?
THE VOICE OF THE NEGRO.
All ye nations, pause a moment! listen to the Negro's voice,
Coming up from all vocations where his life has made a choice!
Listen to each rank or station, as you cross the sea of time,
It is heard in ev'ry nation, any race and ev'ry clime.
If you'll go among the tradesmen and their work of worth inspect,
If you'll tarry with the lowly and their lack of skill detect,
If you'll travel o'er the planet, filled with thought, with action stirred,
In them all you'll find, my brother, that the Negro's voice is heard.
Search the patents of invention, or the soldiers record find,
Peep into the author's study, or the poet keep in mind,
In the avenues of science or the broadest fields of art,
You will hear the voice of Negroes as they bravely play their part.
As good lawyers and physicians, or as men who're called to preach.
As an orator and statesman who the hearts of people reach,
As you view the great professions that have made the world rejoice,
If you'll listen for a moment, you will hear the Negro's voice.
'Tis a voice that cries for justice, not for favors to be shown,
For an equal chance with others, for a manhood of its own,
Give that voice a proper hearing in the forum of the world,
Then all prejudice and envy from the race will soon be hurled.
PART TWO.
THE PRESIDENTS.
When he the nation's heart had won,
The chair was filled by Washington,
The second star to rise so high,
Was Adams, in a morning sky.
The next, when we the records trace,
Is Jefferson, to fill the place,
Then Madison the people raised,
Till Monroe came in to be praised.
John Quincy Adams next was found,
To steer the "Ship of State" around,
Till Andrew Jackson was possessed,
To hold the reins as he thought best.
Van Buren then, was honored so,
And Harrison came next below;
John Tyler to the place awoke,
Who later was displaced by Polk.
With firmness Taylor held the prize,
Till Fillmore filled the peoples' eyes,
Then Pierce was taken by the hand,
And made the foremost of the land.
Buchannan to the chair was led
In quick succession, it is said,
Abe Lincoln's worth then caught the air,
And ushered him into the chair.
To Andrew Johnson came the call,
To be the president of all,
He held the post till Grant was made,
The nation's president instead.
The nineteenth man was R. B. Hayes,
James Garfield next, my history says,
Then Arthur was the nation's chief,
Till Cleveland came to his relief.
The twenty-third was Harrison,
And Cleveland came again as one,
Who knew the ropes and held the sway,
Till bright McKinley won the day.
The twenty-sixth was Roosevelt,
Whose arm of steel wrong-doers felt,
He struck a blow at prejudice,
And brought the country up to this.
DUTY, or TRUTH AT WORK.
Interlinked is truth to duty, have you had the precious thought,
That the truth in bringing blessings is with duty ever fraught?
Duty is the truth in motion, all its powers put in frame,
Working through a vast creation, things of God in virtue's name.
Duty scales the highest mountains, fathoms out the deepest sea,
Gets the scope of starry heaven, catches whispers of the lee,
Opens mysteries of nature, finds recesses of the soul,
Wheresoever truth is founded, faithful duty finds the goal.
'Tis a sin against your Maker, 'tis a crime against mankind,
To yourself it works an evil which the end will surely find,
It deserves the scholar's contempt and the frowns of all the rest,
If a precious truth is harbored and concealed within your breast.
If you part the truth from duty then a curse attends your way,
Wrong enthroned will hoist his banner working evil all the day,
Grasp the truth and cling to duty, yea, unite them into one,
And a crown of life awaits you when the things of time are done.
A LEGAL MOUSE.
A lawyer had a legal mouse,
A naughty one they say,
That took possession of his house.
And papers ev'ry day.
His books and records it would gnaw,
Without regard for loss,
Its disrespect and lack of awe
Just kept the owner cross.
When no revenge the man could get,
His anger blazed so high,
Till he declared when next they met,
The mouse would surely die.
The murder, all the world should know,
He planned with ire intense,
To strike the mouse a fatal blow
And call it self-defence.
One day the desk he opened wide,
The mouse in regal state,
Sat in a pigeon hole, inside,
In style the scene was great.
A stroke the lawyer at it gave,
A start it made to flee.
Into a hole its life to save,
To find security.
When he had guarded well the hole,
It scrambled for the floor,
Again he kept it from the goal,
Its life endangered more.
The door of hope he seemed to close
Upon the enemy;
Its feelings then, nobody knows,
Its longings to be free.
Up through his sleeve it made a break,
In search of freedom sweet;
His arm he then began to shake,
To bring it to his feet.
His cuff was thrown away, no doubt,
The button had to go;
His coat and vest he tore about,
The mouse had scared him so.
All o'er his body, too, he felt
The mouse, though such a prig,
Himself he then began to pelt,
To yell and dance a jig.
His thoughts he threw around his will,
The same he had not made;
He felt uncertain which would kill,
Such terror was displayed.
The neighbors and the police heard
The noise of that affray;
And to the spot, without a word,
They quickly made their way.
Upon his back, between his shirts,
The little mouse was found.
'Twas hard, amid so many flirts,
To bring it to the ground.
Out of his coat, upon advice,
He came, with haste replete.
The room-door opened in a trice
And made good his retreat.
The mouse was taken from its place
Of hiding and of dread,
So painful was the last embrace,
It fell down by him-dead.
Then to the crowd the lawyer said,
"Of such, my friends, beware,
Mine enemy, the mouse, is dead,
Such things we all can spare.
"The killing, in my case, was one
Of self-defence, 'tis true;
And, on the whole, I've only done.
As other men would do;
"But still, my hands are red with blood!
That mandate, 'Do not kill,'
Prevents the waters of the flood
From washing off the ill."
To all who shall the story read,
And many will, I trust,
Don't kill a helpless mouse, I plead,
Unless the killing's just.
WHY WE MEET.
Why have crowds as magnets drawn
Men to meet, since nature's dawn?
Why did loneliness embrace
Adam, father of the race?
Why did twelve disciples dwell
All together? Who can tell?
Why, at intervals, do we
Gather round the festal tree?
Annual picnics, how can they
Cure the heartache? Tell me, pray;
Grand receptions, sweeter far,
Tell me what their missions are.
Seeking pleasure, killing pain,
Making mirth and gladness reign,
Anguish swoons and sadness quakes
At the sound that laughter makes.
Jollity, with happy mien
Chases trouble from the scene;
Joy, increasing as it flows,
Drowns a multitude of woes.
Thoughts offensive fear and fly,
When good-will is passing by;
Sunlight dancing with delight,
Cares will vanish at the sight.
Love-its gentle strokes are such,
Grief is crippled by the touch.
Sorrows deep we bury here,
In a casket of good cheer.
Peace enthroned, with regal sway,
Drives the dullness far away;
Round the festal board of life,
Naught should come that's born of strife.
Why do people love to meet
And enjoy themselves complete?
'Tis the ruling hand of fate,
That is why they congregate.
A DIALOGUE.
(Club)
Our cup of joy was overfilled
When thou didst join our throng;
But now, alas! our hearts are chilled,
By voices loud and long;
They give us all to understand
That soon we'll take thy parting hand.
(Parting Member)
Cease to repine; my thoughts will turn
To all my friends of yore.
Dame Fortune's charms will never spurn
The thoughts I have in store.
So long as love entwines the heart,
Sweet mem'ries bloom, though we may part.
(Club)
Thy voice was music to our ears,
Thy loving smile gave light,
Thy self-possession calmed our fears
And helped us do the right;
Thine absence we will keenly feel,
As o'er our path the time will steal.
(Parting Member)
Till love is taken from the cost,
Till hatred reigns in might,
We never count a thing as lost,
Though far removed from sight;
In love my voice will ring with cheer,
The echoes of this place so dear.
(Club)
That all thine efforts bring success,
Will be our constant prayer,
Thy joys, we hope, will not be less,
In other climes than here.
Accept, we pray, this little task,
Forget us not, is all we ask.
(Parting Member)
We form a part of all we meet,
As blessing or as ban,
As light or darkness to the feet,
We fill Dame Nature's plan.
So in my actions will be seen,
Reflections of this place serene.
LELA'S CHARMS.
(A Song.)
Dear Lela is my joy and crown,
My brightest gem and sunshine, too,
Her sweetness often kills a frown
And plants a pleasure where it grew;
Her voice my soul with rapture fills,
Her sparkling eye my being thrills.
Chorus.
Priceless, darling Lela,
Thou alone my heart can cheer;
Q, my precious Lela,
How I love thee, Lela, dear.
She helps to roll away the stone
Of envy, pride, and self-conceit,
To raise my virtue to a throne
And crush the evils at my feet;
She brings my wounds a healing balm,
And for each tempest proves a calm.
Her purity and loving smile,
My pains dispel, with all that harms,
My better nature all the while,
Responds in full to Lela's charms.
When cares of life have made me sad,
One look upon her makes me glad.
The richest diamond of earth
My darling is to me, my friends;
No tongue can tell her matchless worth,
Before 'tis told, the language ends;
My greatest spur to do the right,
Is when dear Lela comes to sight.
WHISPER WORDS OF LOVE TO ME.
(A Song.)
Tell me of thy heart's devotion,
When the sun has gone to sleep,
While the moon-beams kiss the ocean
And the stars their vigils keep.
Chorus.
Whisper softly, whisper gently,
Sweetest words of love to me;
Whisper so my heart can hear it,
All thy tenderness for me.
In the sunlight or the shadow,
On the mount or in the vale,
Tell me in the wood or meadow,
That thy love can never fail.
Tell me, though life brings its changes-
Winter, summer, spring or fall—
That it ne'er thy heart estranges,
That thy love will brave it all.
THE PRICE OF DISRESPECT.
(A Song.)
A lady's love is gained.
And held when you've attained,
True manhood which the baser things reject;
Kind sir, all evil hate,
Keep truth inviolate,
For love will die when fed on disrespect.
Chorus.
The price of disrespect,
The price of disrespect,
The price of disrespect is loss of love.
I warn you now, my friend,
Consider well the end,
The price of disrespect is loss of love.
If husband's part you play,
Or lover's, fond and gay,
Your faithfulness to duty don't neglect;
If e'er she finds it out,
That you're a case of doubt,
Her love will tremble out of disrespect.
From lofty habits choose,
Be gallant in your views,
Your reputation evermore protect;
Don't stoop to anything
That on you shame will bring,
Don't let her pay the price of disrespect.
Love's house whene'er you build,
Get workmen who are skilled;
Take honesty to be your architect;
The best of matter use,
Dishonored things refuse,
For love will flee the home of disrespect.
The future holds a claim,
So build in virtue's name,
The best of tools for building then select;
A good foundation lay,
"Twill brave a stormy day,
Love's house will fall when built on disrespect.
EASTER
or
SPRING-TIME.
'Tis the season when nature awakes from her sleep,
When the eye that was closed to the world takes a peep,
When the blanket of snow is no longer insight–
It is lost in the warmth of the sun's merry light.
As we hark to the music of birds of the spring,
Mother Nature re-echoes the songs that they sing;
Ev'ry hue of the flowers unfold on the scene,
While the earth for herself takes a carpet of green.
When the fowls of the air, with a strange harmony,
To their mates will repair and in love will agree,
While the fish of the deep will their beauty display,
And the beasts of the field are so blithesome and gay.
'Tis the time when the angel the stone rolled. away
From the door of the tomb on a bright Easter Day,
When the Saviour of Life and of Light did arise,
And the Comforter send from His home in the skies.
Wicked self is the stone, which the angel of love,
From the door of the soul, if allowed, will remove;
And the best of a spirit that long was concealed
Will arise, and the spring-time of life be revealed.
HALLOWE’EN.
'Tis on October, thirty-first,
That streams of pleasure swell and burst,
When peace and joy pervade the scene,
While keeping watch of Hallowe'en.
On tiptoe here the wonder stands,
To catch a glimpse of other lands;
With bated breath and anxious eyes-
The herald of to-morrow's prize.
In lovely hues a spirit paints
A picture of the "Feast of Saints,"
All clustered round the festal board-
A scene time-honored and adored.
Perchance we all shall tarry late,
When such a time we celebrate,
Our stay excuse, for 'twill be seen,
We vigils keep of Hallowe'en.
We drink the sweet persimmon beer,
The raccoon fills the heart with cheer,
The 'possum hearkens to the sounds,
Of hunters with their horns and hounds
The juveniles their bonfires raise,
The band melodious music plays,
We duck for apples in a tub,
While drums are beating, rub-a-dub!
To some a partner comes for life,
A husband, or a loving wife,
In divers ways, with happy mien,
We spend the time of Hallowe'en.
CHRISTMAS EVE.
The smilax in our homes entwine,
With mistletoe and holly;
While fun and frolic there combine,
To help us all be jolly.
The sound of crackers on the ear,
Amid the flash of rockets,
"Old Santa" comes, with things of cheer,
For little children's pockets.
The scent of baked meat fills the air,
The smaller fry including,
While pastry's odor, everywhere,
Is on the smell intruding.
The poorest beggar, in the streets,
Procures the season's plenties,
For once in all the year, he eats
His fill of Christmas dainties.
The days of cold, of sleet and snow,
Bleak winter is the season
For tides of mirth to ebb and flow,
While Christmas brings the reason.
BIRTHDAY WISHES TO A PHYSICIAN.
Birthday greetings
From a friend,
All thy meetings
Peace attend.
Time extended
Be thy store,
Bliss appended
Evermore.
Did the flowers
Born of May,
From their bowers
Choose a day?
Music ringing,
On the air,
Flowers springing
Everywhere.
Chanting gayly,
Five and eight,
Make the day we
Celebrate.
Where's the doctor?
Can you tell,
How she make her
Patients well?
Soul of beauty,
Day by day,
To her duty
Hies away.
With the sickest,
Day and night,
In the thickest
Of the fight.
Heaven's treasure
Be thine end,
Is the measure
Of a friend.
·
BIRTHDAY WISHES To A MINISTER OF THE GOSPEL.
We turn aside from everything,
We spurn all other meetings,
And by our presence here we bring
To thee our birthday greetings.
'Twas on the twenty-seventh day,
The month of February,
When thou, imbued with prospects gay,
Began thy life so merry.
Thy purity and kindness, too,
Thy God-like conversations,
Thy hold upon the good and true,
Bring peaceful revelations.
May love like sunbeams fall on thee,
To chase away thy sadness,
When sorrows linger may they be
O'ershadowed by thy gladness.
May many years be thine to live,
And to thy life be given,
The highest blessings earth can give,
Then later-rest in heaven.
BIRTHDAY WISHES To A HUSBAND.
May the saddest memory
Of thy past life faint and die,
Ev'ry sorrow, here shall we
Bury in a birthday pie.
Thine a future that is bright,
As the crystal be it clear,
Ever standing for the right,
Truth and purity revere.
May thy life a blessing prove
To thyself and all with whom
Thou shalt meet in bonds of love,
All the universe the sum.
Many years be thine to live,
Filled with deeds that cheer and bless,
Thine the highest hope to give
Greatest joy and happiness.
April showers brought the day,
Thirtieth the special one,
In the midst of flowers gay,
Was thy precious life begun.
Nature smiles with all her strength
On the day that gave thee birth;
May the days of greater length
Laugh to own thee, son of worth.
Heaven claims thee as her own,
Life bequeaths the legacy,
With the saints around the throne,
Live and reign eternally.
ACCOMPANYING A GIFT.
(A Quilt.)
One whose love will never end,
May this present, from a friend,
Bring to thee refreshing sleep,
While thy spirit angels keep.
Peaceful may thy slumbers be,
From the cares of time set free,
Till the dream of life is past-
Till we meet at home at last.
ACCOMPANYING A GIFT.
(From Patient to Nurse.)
From thy patient, who while here
Thou didst nurse with tender care-
May thy days of pain be few,
Faithful Rose, continue true.
Pleasures manifold be thine,
Radiant with light divine,
Friends of worth to thee be given,
Till we meet at home in heaven.
THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE.
(A Song.)
We have grown a tree of knowledge, "Worthy Claflin" is the name,
It is rooted down in Orangeburg to foster wisdom's claim;
We have souls among its branches, rising up to deeds of fame-
The tree is growing on.
Chorus.
We will shout, hurrah for Claflin!
Gayly shout, hurrah for Claflin!
We will shout, hurrah for Claflin!
The tree is growing on.
In the faculty and teachers we have dressers of the tree,
In the soil they find in student life they labor faithfully;
While the president in kindness all the work will oversee-
The tree is growing on.
Winter spends in preparation gaining strength–the proper thing–
Growing each and ev'ry season, always blooming in the spring,
Bearing forth its fruit in summer while the falls the harvest bring-=
The tree is growing on.
'Tis the day we call commencement makes the tree of knowledge bloom,
Graduates a class of students, thus for others making room.
As their spring of life is given, noble things the sight will loom–
The class is moving on.
Graduates begin their summer, active life the same we call,
The results that come from labor always brings to them the fall;
For in life will come a season only once, 'tis then for all–
The time is passing on.
As a Christian tree of knowledge, spreading branches all around,
With a change for good in people wheresoe'er the shade is found,
Evil dies within its presence while its righteousness abound–
The tree is growing on.
WHAT WE TEACH AT CLAFLIN.
If you'll listen for a moment, I will tell you now, my friends,
What is taught at dear old Claflin, when your child that school attends,
I will picture all departments, if you'll use your mental eyes,
How the best of education comes to ev'ry one who tries.
In the handicrafts we train them; ev'ry boy must learn a trade,
Architecture, sloyd and drawing, yea, how furniture is made;
Engineering, ironworking, carpentry, and how to print,
Painting, masonry, wheel-wrighting, tailors made without a stint.
Girls are taught domestic science, coupled with domestic art,
Such will give them independence, which is far the better part;
Cooking, sewing, millinery, needlework, and making lace,
Garment-drafting; Thus we teach them how a busy world to face.
Here we teach them vocal music, and in harmony, so plain,
In the best of composition we your girls and boys will train,
Winded instruments we teach them, and the stringed ones, if you like,
On the organ and piano how and when the keys to strike.
We've a grammar school, a normal, and preparatory, too,
With a college as the cap-stone of the courses --this is true–
We've theology for preachers and we boldly take the stand,
That of Negro schools, our Claflin is the foremost of the land.
Now, the matter of religion we have given equal stress,
Education's never finished when it stands or something less.
Here we teach the Bible daily, and we urge a change of heart,
Heart, with hand and head is needed when life's journey one shall start.
Education that's harmonious, training all the parts of man,
Is the kind we give at Claflin, and I'll show you here the plan.
Heads when trained to do the thinking, hands to dignify the work,
Hearts when rightly trained for worship seldom will a duty shirk.
CLAFLIN'S ALUMNI.
Though the cunning of the Indian and the Zulu's thirst for blood,
And with giant strength of Hercules we find ourselves imbued,
They would fail to make a manhood that would reach the highest goal,
For the measure of true manhood is the standard of the soul.
Isaac Newton, Galileo, nature's secrets did unlock,
Many more with equal splendor in the same have taken stock;
Though their souls have crossed the river and are gone, still now we find,
That the standard of their manhood has been measured by the mind.
From this grand association comes the Websters of our day,
And Demosthenes of power shall his eloquence display;
Till the Commonwealth shall tremble with emotion, and exclaim,
"We have names of worth from Claflin, written on the scroll of fame!"
May the leaven of a Luther be imbedded here in peace,
That will cause a transformation to begin and never cease,
Till the ignorance and vices that have bound a struggling race,
Shall be banished from their strongholds and to higher things give place.
Faithful spirits, like Hugh Miller's, as a martyr's we should prize,
For the Bible and geology, he died to harmonize,
Prize religion and biology that Drummond taught as one,
Making laws we find in nature, simply laws of heaven begun.
With the valor of an Ivanhoe, on horseback or on foot,
In a battle of the intellect with minds of great repute,
Armed with sword of mental quality, and lance of learned skill,
We will banish all opposers from the lists, with hearty will.
It is said by those who know just how to value and compare,
That our "Claflin is the leading school for Negroes anywhere,"
It is left for us to prove it or to falsify the same–
Let no one in this alumni stain our Alma Mater's name.
From increasing of advantages this lesson we should learn,
That they make us more responsible for things of life in turn,
We, the chain of superstition that the centuries did forge,
Must attempt to break asunder and a race of people purge.
May each graduate of Claflin be a hero in the fight,
Helping kill the hydra-headed giant wrong against the right,
In the battle all must enter, for we find no neutral ground,
Let each one in this alumni on the side of right be found.
May this grand association ever live and never die,
Till transformed into the region of the sweetest by-and-by.
Then with angel voices blended in a pleasing harmony,
Chant our Alma Mater's praises through a bright eternity.
SOUTHERN WORK of DR. AND MRS. L. M. DUNTON.
To the Palmetto State, in the year 'seventy-three,
In October he takes him a wife,
And as pastor of Beaufort a church near the sea,
They begin on their journey of life.
In a short while to Greenville they hie to locate,
And the church of the town oversee,
The religion and life of their flock regulate,
And the years of their stay number three.
Then to Charleston they go as a power for right,
There for three years they live on the main,
There they struggle with darkness—that demon of night-
And to Greenville they hasten again.
As the pastor in charge for one conference year,
Then as elder is made to preside,
O'er the district of Greenville; his wife with him here,
Makes addresses to children beside.
The grand lecture for young folks entitled "Stepped On,"
Say the people her finest address,
Though delivered in years that are long, long agone,
It as yesterday still does impress.
When the years three amount in this work then they come,
As the president Claflin adores,
As preceptress and model, as queen of the home,
Training young folks to live, by the scores.
'Mid the calm and the storm in the sunshine and rain,
They are faithful to every trust,
By their labors we keep in prosperity's train—
Claflin's flag never trails in the dust.
May the sun ever shine in their pathway on earth,
And may Claflin continue to be,
A reward for their labors, momentous in worth,
Greatest blessing from mountain to sea.
DEDICATION DAY POEM.
(Slater Manual Training Building, Claflin University.)
'Twas the angel of Eden, to Adam he said,
"By the sweat of your brow shall your body be fed";
In the palmiest days of the Hebrews they made
It a law for the boys each to master a trade.
In the time of the Saviour this mandate as true,
And He sanctioned it all as the Son of a Jew,
Even Paul, the apostle, was the maker of tents,
With his own bright example made labor's defence.
'Twas by work of the hands that the black Washington
Rose to eminent heights and the victory won
Over prejudice dark, and in gold wrote a name
That forever will shine on the pages of fame.
Now in Africa, England and schools of the North,
They've adopted his methods because of their worth,
Giving Negroes a weapon stern prejudice to kill-
How the world to them bows when they labor with skill!
Tell me, why do we meet on this hallowed spot?
'Tis a tribute to labor we pay, is it not?
Yea, for this we have come and the day cele- brate;
Slater building completed we now dedicate.
Time will give to the race from this building so grand,
Workmen equal in skill to the first of the land.
Make the most of it, boys, tell it out, prove it true,
And the eyes of the nations will open to you.
Ne'er a king on his throne in his glory was found,
In the hearts of the people more truly was crowned
Than the workman, who toils in the strength of his might,
From the dawn of the day till the coming of night.
No, the mandate of Eden has ne'er been repealed,
But with each generation its force is revealed;
It has lived through the ages of time up to now,
That your bread must be earned by the sweat of your brow..
Education complete that forever will stand,
Must embody the head and the heart and the hand,
Making workmen, indeed, who approach the sublime,
In a work that will live o'er the river of time
LINES TO A GRADUATE.
Written for a reception given in honor of the
Orangeburger who graduated in 1904.
In ev'ry race, in ev'ry clime,
In ev'ry rank or station,
The people always take the time,
To honor education.
How nice it is to graduate
Our thoughts and actions elevate,
It gives us leaders who will stand,
For truth and right on ev'ry hand.
PART THREE.
THE BIBLE.
Read the Bible, it will tell
How in life to journey well,
Wondrous things ye shall behold,
In the law of God, we're told.
If in pleasure or in pain,
Having loss or getting gain,
Joy or sorrow; ye shall find
Blest examples of the kind.
It will help in time of need,
Souls that hunger it will feed,
To the thirsty is revealed
Jesus Christ, a fountain sealed.
Pearls of truth in ev'ry line,
Jewels, too, in lustre shine,
'Tis with peace and pleasure fraught,
Bringing evil things to naught.
'Tis more precious, we are told,
Than the diamond or gold,
More than rubies 'tis adored-
Wisdom of the Saviour, Lord.
'Tis a mine of precious gems
Greater far than diadems,
Ev'ry gem abounds in love,
Fit for crowns in heav'n above.
Love the Bible, gentle youth,
Dive and find the pearls of truth,
Treasure thus the life divine,
Make the precious blessings thine.
Age should hearken to its voice,
And in wisdom make a choice;
Keep it hidden in the heart,
From its precepts never part.
To thy path it brings a light,
One that guides thy steps aright,
Bids the darkness turn to day,
Drives the dreary night away.
It was tried by wicked hands,
But against the world it stands,
Through all time the soul makes free,
And throughout eternity.
THE SOCIAL GLASS.
There's a serpent, namely, drinking
Wine or whiskey, beer or gin,
With man's destiny 'tis linking
All that leads to shame and sin.
Poverty will surely find you,
Worthy pride and manhood pass,
In his clutches rum will bind you—
Lover of the social glass.
When you're stricken with diseases,
Who of you are taken first?
Those who drink! somehow it pleases
Sickness thus to quench its thirst!
Don't you hear the prison ringing,
With the cries of grief and woe?
Drink! its penalty is bringing!
How the tears of anguish flow!
To the almshouse let us visit,
Naught such sorrow can surpass,
Human wrecks we trace, and is it,
That they used the social glass?
Search the mad-house, gentle stranger,
Crazed by drink, such ravings hear!
Did they risk the proffered danger,
Quaff the poison without fear?
Steal the conscience! cloud the reason!
Rob the judgment! O! alas!
This the cup will do in season,
Victim of the social glass.
All affection for another-
Daughter, father, just to think!
Lover, sister, wife or mother-
Drowns within the cup of drink!
And the wrong that's here inflicted
Ceases not, but what is worse,
Born of such the child's addicted
To the awful, awful curse!
Ten years back let's turn the dial,
Then the drunkards of to-day
Are of drinking making trial,
Mod'rate drinkers, as they say.
Mod'rate drinking is the terror,
Leading down to scenes of night,
From the path of truth to error-
Lost, to all that's pure and right.
Look upon the mod'rate drinkers
Ten years hence, what do you see?
To the eyes of all our thinkers,
They the drunkards then will be.
Rum displaces heav'nly nurture,
Deeper than the tongue can tell,
Buries honor, kills the virtue,
Leads you to a drunkard's hell.
THE CIRCLE.
The Christian constellations run,
As do the planets round the sun.
The Sun of Righteousness will shine.
Within their souls, the light divine.
Eternity has ne'er begun
To end the same will ever shun,
The arc of time from nature's heights,
The future to the past unites.
Creator of the earth and sky,
Eternal ages lives on high,
A circle grand His being makes,
The human race the same partakes.
A part of God, the soul of man,
Shall live in blessing or in ban,
Through all the ages and shall dwell
In heaven's bliss or burning hell.
The advent of our Lord was made
At David's town, in evening shade;
His Christian banner there unfurled,
The sun has followed round the world.
To His disciples, Jesus gave
The great commission-man to save-
Concentric circles was the plan,
To find a lost, rebellious man.
My witnesses ye now shall be,
Of all the works observed in me,
Ye shall begin, with loving grace,
At home, Jerusalem's the place.
Ye through Judea, next shall go,
Samaria the truth must know,
To utmost places of the earth,
Ye shall proclaim Messiah's birth.
Through Europe to our western shore,
His name the savage tribes adore;
Pacific isles have heard the sound
Of prayers and preaching all around.
The Philippines and China, too,
Are lifting up His standard true;
His banner floating west has been,
Till Palestine we find again.
And thus is made a circle grand
Around the world, a holy band
Of Christians, who in love agree
To serve the Saviour faithfully.
The God of heaven-God of earth-
Delights to give a circle's worth,
Revealing thus on ev'ry hand
Himself, that men may understand.
SYMPATHY.
Christ to seek the lost was sent,
Sympathy's embodiment;
Sent to seek a rebel soul,
With a balm to make it whole.
Heaven's greatest gift to man!
Then whatever else your plan,
Incomplete 'twill surely be
If you have not sympathy.
Man with pity views distress,
God's compassion makes it less;
He in man we'll ever see,
Shown in deeds of sympathy.
If you would the Saviour know,
On a tour of mercy go,
Help to bear a brother's cares,
And the Son of Man appears.
Inasmuch as ye have done
Good to any needy one,
From thy store of charity-
Ye have done it unto Me.
Sympathy! how sweet the name!
'Twas for thee a Saviour came,
Clothed in deep humility,
Troubled sons of earth to free.
Earth's reward and heaven's, too,
Stands reserved for workers true;
This the burden of my prayer,
Let me feel a brother's care.
THE SOCIAL LIFE.
Of the ills we daily see,
Let us cleanse society.
Look to Jesus in the sky-
Lift the social standard high.
To a proud, exalted plane,
Love of self should ne'er attain,
In the highest social creed,
Should be found a brother's need.
Through a world of sin and woe,
Doing kindness as we go,
It should be the social plan,
Thus to lift a fellow-man.
Looking to a throne of grace-
Lifting up a fallen race—
Even in society,
Jesus eminent should be.
As the planets beam so bright,
Circling, filled with sunny light,
Social planets we should be,
Of the grandest purity.
Round the Christ should we revolve,
Spreading rays of peace and love,
O'er the path by aliens trod,
Lifting strangers up to God.
Freed from social darkness here,
Heaven to meet us draweth near,
Angels chant the glad refrain,
Eden shall be pure again.
REFINING FIRE.
What a cost to be pure! did e'er strike your mind,
That the gold so much prized in the fire was refined?
That the pearls of the deep by the divers are found,
That by peril of life their successes are crowned?
Yea, the trees of the orchard the pruner must know,
If they bring forth the finest of fruit that can grow;
And the knife is applied to the vine everywhere,
In production of grapes that are luscious and rare.
So in life we are taught by the pain and the loss,
That the road to the crown is by way of the cross;
And we pass through the furnace the Saviour to gain.
For with Him, if we suffer, with Him shall we reign.
It is good for the soul that afflictions abound,
That the way of the cross is the road to be crowned;
For the adder is seen on a sunshiny day,
And before we are tried our souls go astray.
We may weep for a night, but the morn bringeth joy,
Then the songs of rejoicing our tongues will employ;
Every storm that arises at some time must end,
Then the rainbow of promise and peace will attend.
There's a pearl of great price and for it must be paid
All the treasures of earth and a sacrifice made;
On the market is placed every idol and sold,
For the Love of the Saviour is better than gold.
Ev'ry soul must afflictions and troubles endure,
As the gold must be tried so the soul be pure
As the pearl is secured at the peril of life,
So the soul in its triumph must pass through the strife.
Like the Saviour who suffered and went to His rest,
Must His servants on earth find the home of the blest,
There to tell Him the story of how in the past,
They surmounted the crosses and came home at last.
BENEFITS OF SORROW.
The trials that the Saviour bore have paved the golden way,
Gethsemane and Calvary before the Easter Day.
He chasteneth the souls He loves and scourgeth every one
Whom He receives into the fold-His will, His will be done.
For ev'ry valley there's a mount, in splendor does it rise,
The vales are deepest when the peaks most nearly touch the skies.
For ev'ry grief there is a joy, we cannot fail to see,
The deeper sorrows that we have, the richer joys there'll be.
The light afflictions that we have, for just a moment here,
Will work a far exceeding weight of love and glory there.
"Be still and know that I am God," is whispered in the ear,
"A shelter from the stormy blast, in trouble I am near."
In tribulations then rejoice, for they will patience bring,
And patience brings experience by which we'll ever sing
Of hope that maketh not ashamed as years of time shall roll,
The love of God is shed abroad by hope within the soul.
Of spirits bright and near the throne 'twas asked from whence they came,
And why their garments were so pure? The voices did exclaim,
Through tribulations they have come and washed their garments white,
In Jesus' blood, the worthy Lamb, in whom they take delight!
Each oak that braves the tempest's blast is stronger made at length;
Each trial borne in Jesus' name augments the store of strength;
Then murmur not when crosses come, such angels in disguise,
In answer to our prayers appear to wipe our weeping eyes.
O'er seas of time while troubles rage and toss our helpless bark,
When human strength is but to fail and all around is dark,
The Saviour steps upon the wave, its fury's thus allayed;
"My training school to lead thee out," He says, "be not afraid."
When clouds of sorrow hover round and rains of trial fall,
When we can do no other than upon the Saviour call,
He quickly comes to our relief and clears the mists away,
His guiding eye attends our march to realms of perfect day.
At home in heav'n, when time is o'er, no tem- pests will be seen,
But perfect joy and peace will bring a tranquil most serene,
With saints and angels round the throne we'll rest from care and pain,
And spend a bright eternity where purest love shall reign.
AFRICA.
As the sun that lights creation,
Christ, the Sun of Righteousness,
Shall a land illume with glory,
Filled with sin and dark distress.
Hearken to the great commission,
Go ye all into the world,
Preach my gospel to the heathen,
Let my banners be unfurled.
Macedonia's cry, "Come over,"
Echoes from the slave of night,
"Bring the plan of my redemption”–
Ninety millions crave the light.
Can we hear that cry unheeded,
And in full contentment be?
Nay, our souls cannot be tranquil,
Till our brothers are set free.
God requires this generation's
Help before its day shall close,
Help to make that darkened country,
Bud and blossom as the rose.
Missionaries, consecrated,
Tongues of fire will surely be,
In their pentecostal showers,
Afric's bondsmen shall be free.
Jesus led a life of service,
Shielding others from despair;
If we'll enter such a mission,
He will always meet us there.
Christ has borne our burden for us,
Made His blood the ransom pay;
We should help our weaker brother,
That he faints not by the way.
If we march around the ramparts,
All true Christians in the band,
And reflect the light of Jesus,
Walls of Satan cannot stand.
May the spirit of the Master,
Counting earthly gain as loss,
Urge us to enlist the heathen
'Neath the standard of the Cross.
MOUNTAIN TOPS.
Horeb's mountain top of old
Held the "Burning Bush," we're told,
Moses was commissioned there,
Israel's freedom to declare.
Sinai became the mount,
If we have a true account,
Where the decalogue was made,
And where Moses often prayed.
From the top of Pisgah, grand,
Moses viewed the promised land;
Moab's plains, not far away,
Gave to him his dying day.
David bought the thresher's lot,
Mount Moriah was the spot,
Blood so stained his hands with guilt,
Solomon the temple built.
Greatest sermon men record,
On the mountain by the Lord
It was preached and gave the plan
How to use a fellow-man.
Jesus' countenance was bright,
All His raiment, too, was white;
Moses and Elias came,
Visitors in heaven's name:
"This is my beloved Son,"
Said a voice when all was done,
Peter saw the holy sight,
On the mountain, in the night.
On the mount of Calvary,
Jesus died to make us free,
Took His leave for realms above,
From the Olivet of Love.
Life itself is full of hills,
Mountains, valleys, plains and rills,
Rivers, oceans, gulfs and lakes-
Beautiful the world it makes.
As the years of time shall roll,
In the mountain of the soul,
God communes with ev'ry one
Who will pray, "Thy will be done."
Horeb is the mount of call,
To our life-work, one and all,
What the "Burning Bush" shall say,
We should cheerfully obey.
On the Sinai within,
All the laws of life begin,
In the Pisgah's we delight,
Heaven's Canaan comes to sight.
Our Moriah's will resound
With sweet music all around,
In the temple of the soul,
Ceaseless praises e'er shall roll.
On the mountain we are changed,
From the sins of life estranged,
Heaven's visitors attend,
Bringing tidings of the end.
That we make on Calvary,
Sacrifices, all agree,
Love of self is crucified,
Every idol laid aside.
Life's ideals, pure we get,
From the mount of Olivet;
On their pinions fly away
To the realms of perfect day.
SONG OF THE ANGELS.
"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will toward men."
To God the highest glory-
His kingdom shall increase,
To men the wondrous story,
Good-will and perfect peace.
The highest God in heaven,
The highest upon earth,
The highest service given,
For His undying worth.
The highest in thy pleasure,
The highest in thy pain,
To Him the greatest measure,
To Him the greatest gain.
'Tis past thine understanding,
'Tis past thy finding out,
Sweet peace thy life commanding-
Such change beyond a doubt.
In perfect peace He holds thee,
Thy mind on Him is stayed,
His holiness enfolds thee,
When full surrender's made.
Thine implements of warfare,
Are needed not as yore;
Thy sword has formed a plowshare,
To learn of war no more.
The love of God has found thee,
Thy soul has peace within,
Good-will to men around thee,
Makes heav'n on earth begin.
Good-will to all that's mortal,
Good-will to ev'ryone,
Till gathered round the portal,
The plaudit comes, "Well done."
Well done, thou faithful servant,
Thy praises to the Lord,
Good-will and peace so fervent,
Bring heav'n for their reward.
THE CHRISTMAS TREE.
Why are candles brightly burning
All among the Christmas tree?
Outer darkness ever spurning,
Tell me what their missions be.
They remind us of a Saviour,
Born to us one Christmas Day,
Who to change a world's behavior,
Lighted up the pilgrim's way.
Evergreen we see, why is it,
That the tree is always green?
Why should ev'ry Christmas visit
Bring the hues we've always seen?
It bespeaks the life eternal,
Given us by Christ, the Lord,
Points us to the life, supernal
And the Christian's great reward.
Though in dresses torn and tattered,
Though they're in the best attired,
Gifts to all the friends are scattered-
Why is such a thing desired?
"Tis the highest gift of heaven,
That those presents represent,
How, to all a Saviour given,
That, my child, is what is meant.
IN MEMORIAM OF E. B. CLARK.
'Twas the angel of death that to us downward flew
On the twentieth of March, nineteen hundred and two;
And a brother we loved was transported away
On the wings of the same to the regions of day.
In the choir where he led must his melody cease,
For he joins in the songs of the angels of peace;
And the league that he served will his memory prize,
While he meets with a league of the saints in the skies.
Do you say he is lost? Let such words be no more;
He has left us on earth but has gone on before,
There to welcome each friend in the loveliest bond,
Till we all meet again in the sweetest beyond.
Now we read in the book known as God's holy word,
Of the saints who are blest and who died in the Lord;
How they rest from their labors, and fruits will be borne,
By their friends upon earth till they meet round the throne.
Over time's rugged sea waves an influence strong,
'Twas begun by his work in opposing the wrong,
And continued to widen till touched by the land,
Of the heavenly shore, on the Father's right hand.
He is dead to the earth and to creatures of time,
But he lives in the fields of a verdure sublime;
We shall see him again when our life-work is o'er,
In the beautiful land, on the heavenly shore.
THANKSGIVING.
Let us give thanks to God above,
Thanks for expressions of His love,
Seen in the book of nature, grand
Taught by His love on every hand.
Let us be thankful in our hearts,
Thankful for all the truth imparts,
For the religion of our Lord,
All that is taught us in His word.
Let us be thankful for a land,
That will for such religion stand;
One that protects it by the law,
One that before it stands in awe.
Thankful for all things let us be,
Though there be woes and misery;
Lessons they bring us for our good-
Later 'twill all be understood.
Thankful for peace o'er land and sea,
Thankful for signs of liberty,
Thankful for homes, for life and health,
Pleasure and plenty, fame and wealth.
Thankful for friends and loved ones, too,
Thankful for all things, good and true,
Thankful for harvest in the fall,
Thankful to Him who gave it all.