 | Poems |  |
27
JOHN CHINAMAN IS COMING.
From out the sunset's golden flame
He long has wrapped around him,
From out the walls of woe and shame
Where centuries have bound him,
With clashing cymbals, opium pipes,
And horrid words and letters,
With streaming cue, and bleeding stripes,
And marks of chains and fetters,
With shaven poll, and browless eye,
And ceaseless sound of drumming,
With rattish rush and hungry cry,
John Chinaman is coming!
He long has wrapped around him,
From out the walls of woe and shame
Where centuries have bound him,
With clashing cymbals, opium pipes,
And horrid words and letters,
With streaming cue, and bleeding stripes,
And marks of chains and fetters,
With shaven poll, and browless eye,
And ceaseless sound of drumming,
With rattish rush and hungry cry,
John Chinaman is coming!
Now drape with crape our spangled flag,
And vent your righteous passions,
And let your tongues in anger wag,
American Caucasians!
'Twas sad to roil the Saxon stream
With Sambo, poor old fellow;
And now, forsooth, its struggling gleam
Must bear a tinge of yellow!
Yet ere, as freemen, we revile,
Our conscience craves benumbing;
And 'mid our musings, all the while
John Chinaman is coming!
And vent your righteous passions,
And let your tongues in anger wag,
American Caucasians!
'Twas sad to roil the Saxon stream
With Sambo, poor old fellow;
28
Must bear a tinge of yellow!
Yet ere, as freemen, we revile,
Our conscience craves benumbing;
And 'mid our musings, all the while
John Chinaman is coming!
Now ye who toil, with quickened breath
And hotly streaming faces,
And hate the wretch who flees from death
And cheaply seeks your places,
See, riding down your iron streets,
In search of warmth and victual,
A man who works for what he eats,
And only eats a little!
But Western acres long shall grow,
And factories swell their humming,
And all shall live and prosper, though
John Chinaman is coming!
And hotly streaming faces,
And hate the wretch who flees from death
And cheaply seeks your places,
See, riding down your iron streets,
In search of warmth and victual,
A man who works for what he eats,
And only eats a little!
But Western acres long shall grow,
And factories swell their humming,
And all shall live and prosper, though
John Chinaman is coming!
Now ye who crush the cringing man,
And cheat and spurn and spite him,
See here a beast of trampled clan,
That licks the hands that smite him!
But hold the pearls of your abuse,
And let your wits befriend you,
Or he you put to shameful use,
May some time turn and rend you;
For burdened wights to upright forms
The hand of Right is plumbing,
And straight and proud, through sneers and storms,
John Chinaman is coming!
And cheat and spurn and spite him,
See here a beast of trampled clan,
That licks the hands that smite him!
But hold the pearls of your abuse,
And let your wits befriend you,
Or he you put to shameful use,
May some time turn and rend you;
For burdened wights to upright forms
The hand of Right is plumbing,
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John Chinaman is coming!
Now ye who constant effort wield
To Christianize your neighbors,
Here opens up to you a field
Well worthy of your labors!
And not without allowance due
These threads of vice unravel,
Nor heathen spurn who come to you,
And save you leagues of travel;
And when at last at Heaven's gate
Your passports you are thumbing,
Perhaps you'll see that while you wait,
John Chinaman is coming!
To Christianize your neighbors,
Here opens up to you a field
Well worthy of your labors!
And not without allowance due
These threads of vice unravel,
Nor heathen spurn who come to you,
And save you leagues of travel;
And when at last at Heaven's gate
Your passports you are thumbing,
Perhaps you'll see that while you wait,
John Chinaman is coming!
And while our race, that God has made
To work His grandest pleasure,
Climbs slowly to its destined grade,
With steady step and measure;
If, after all our woe and sin,
And weakness and dejection,
The gracious Lord shall let us in
Through gates of blest perfection,
While marching on, and truths Divine
Continually summing,
We'll see that somewhere in the line,
John Chinaman is coming!
To work His grandest pleasure,
Climbs slowly to its destined grade,
With steady step and measure;
If, after all our woe and sin,
And weakness and dejection,
The gracious Lord shall let us in
Through gates of blest perfection,
While marching on, and truths Divine
Continually summing,
We'll see that somewhere in the line,
John Chinaman is coming!
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