 | Poems by John Howard Bryant |  |
43
SONNET TO ---
Bold champion of the poor, a thorny roadBefore thee lies: for thou hast bared thy breast
And nerved thine arm to lift the heavy load,
And break the chains from limbs too long oppressed.
Tyrants and custom's dupes shall strive in vain;
Truth wields a weapon mightier far than they:
Huge bolts and gates of brass are rent in twain,
Touched by the magic of her gentle sway.
Hold then thy course, “nor bate one jot” of hope,
Lo! the day dawns along our eastern shore;
Soon shall the night of prejudice be o'er,
And a bright morning give thee freer scope
To rouse thy countrymen to deeds of good,
And just and equal laws shall save the land from blood.
| Poems by John Howard Bryant | |