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Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer (Лизелия Августа Дженкинс Мурер) 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 protection 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 regulate 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 Canaanites 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 opposers flee. Though Elisha, when at Dothan, was encompassed 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 fight 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 weakened 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. Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1186 |
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