Classic Poem

Have the bright and glowing visions
Faded from thy longing sight,
Like the gorgeous tints of ev'n
Mingling with the shades of night?

Didst thou hope to see thy country
Wearing Justice as a crown,
Standing foremost 'mid the nations
Worthy of the world's renown?

Didst thou think the grand fruition
Reached the fullness of its time,
When the crater of God's judgment
Overflowed the nation's crime?

That thy people, purged by fire,
Would have trod another path,
Careful, lest their feet should stumble
On the cinders of God's wrath?

And again the injured negro
Grind the dreadful mills of fate,
Pressing out the fearful vintage
Of the nation's scorn and hate?

Sadder than the crimson shadows
Hung for years around our skies,
Are the hopes so fondly cherished
Fading now before thine eyes.

Not in vain has been thy hoping,
Though thy fair ideals fade,
If, like one of God's tall aloes,
Thou art rip'ning in the shade.

There is light beyond the darkness,
Joy beyond the present pain;
There is hope in God's great justice,
And the negro's rising brain.

Though before the timid counsels
Truth and Right may seem to fail.
God hath bathed his sword in judgment,
And his arm shall yet prevail.