A thousand years of darkness in her face, <br />She turns at last from out the centurys' blight <br />Of labored moan and dull oppression's might, <br />To slowly mount the rugged path and trace <br />Her measured step unto her ancient place. <br />And upward, ever upward towards the light <br />She strains, seeing afar the day when right <br />Shall rule the world and justice leaven the race. <br /> <br />Now bare her swarthy arm and firm her sword, <br />She stands where Universal Freedom bleeds, <br />And slays in holy wrath to save the word <br />Of nations and their puny, boasting creeds. <br />Sear with the truth, O God, each doubting heart, <br />Of mankind's need and Afric's gloried part.<br /><br />Joseph Seamon Cotter<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/africa-4/
