University of Virginia Library

No wretched creature of no wretched kind
Than man more weak, calamitous and blind.
There's revolution here!—there's a funeral pall!
There's a gloom o'ershadowing Freedom's hall!
Marks on the floor!—Life drops spilt!
A conflict rages!—There's war to the hilt!
O blind security! He in whose dread hand,
The lightnings vibrate, will not withstand
This trampling on his people. All, all, their rights
Must be to them extended;—or he will not fail
With fearful oracles to make more pale
Their white oppressors.”—With such words of love
He'd speed on his mission to the realms above.
With proud exultant voice, by no means premature,
We next unfold the scroll and behold the embrazure
Of the coming time.—We see the black man higher still,
With manly stride and gallant tread he climbs the hill
Of fame—He writes his name on honor's roll,
And dignifies his skin,—He stamps his deeds from pole
To pole upon liberty's smitten rock.—His praises sung
As he saves his sire's honor from defamation's tongue.
With scholastic polish in the ages future blaze,
He'll pour entrancing eloquence in the world's astonished gaze.
His flattened nose, his thickened lips, and even his kinky hair
Beneath a rude exterior, be admired everywhere.
While undeniable traits of his moral worth and truth
And an intellect none shall question, will forsooth
Shoot forth with grander evidence yet. The burnt cork face
With wild gesticulation and most risible grimace,
Under the wisdom of the day, will be banished from the stage,
And stand the prima facie proof, the justice of the age.
Black sons of freedom!—these halcyon days will soon have sway;
The beacon lights on the golden shore, the meridian sun of day
Will shed their splendors.—The chrysalis emancipates and frees
The butterfly—He will spread his wings upon the breeze,
And drinking nectar from the sweetest flowers,
Give God the praise for his unfolded powers.
His deeds shall be the subject of historian's praise
His heroism the theme of inspiration's lays.
For him the electric spark shall flash from shore to shore
And breathe his massive thoughts as they never breathed before
The sunlit and star paved sky;—the green clad earth
Shall his Alma Mater be,—The rippling river with bubbling mirth,
And the limpid springs by gentle zephyrs driven;
The babbling brooklets, roses bloom, and oaks by thunder riven,
Winter's frost, the glittering ice, and hoary moss-bound rocks,
Each shall his inspiration be. His knowledge then unlocks
Deep mysteries profound and teaches him to honor and adore
That great Eternal One, whose glory is forever more.
How many then will hang their heads in shame
When they behold the zenith of the black man's fame
To think they are the offsprings of the sires who did deny
To these same men their common civil rights.—They will decry
The truth, and swear their fathers anti-righters never were;
Repel the crushing charge;—the odium not incur.
Let every son and daughter of our chosen race,
Now raise their pæans high.—May redeeming grace
In sweetest accents swell; the welkin tuneful ring;
And all with one accord in thrilling concert sing:

“Bright is the beautiful land of our birth,
The home of the homeless all over the earth;
Oh!—let us ever with fondest devotion,
The freedom our fathers bequeathed us watch o'er;
'Till the Angel shall stand on the earth and the ocean,
And shout 'mid earth's ruins that Time is no more.”