O Mother Race! to thee I bring <br />This pledge of faith unwavering, <br />This tribute to thy glory. <br />I know the pangs which thou didst feel, <br />When Slavery crushed thee with its heel, <br />With thy dear blood all gory. <br /> <br />Sad days were those-ah, sad indeed! <br />But through the land the fruitful seed <br />Of better times was growing. <br />The plant of freedom upward sprung, <br />And spread its leaves so fresh and young- <br />Its blossoms now are blowing. <br /> <br />On every hand in this fair land, <br />Proud Ethiope's swarthy children stand <br />Beside their fairer neighbor; <br />The forests flee before their stroke, <br />Their hammers ring, their forges smoke,- <br />They stir in honest labour. <br /> <br />They tread the fields where honour calls; <br />Their voices sound through senate halls <br />In majesty and power. <br />To right they cling; the hymns they sing <br />Up to the skies in beauty ring, <br />And bolder grow each hour. <br /> <br />Be proud, my Race, in mind and soul; <br />Thy name is writ on Glory's scroll <br />In characters of fire. <br />High 'mid the clouds of Fame's bright sky <br />Thy banner's blazoned folds now fly, <br />And truth shall lift them higher. <br /> <br />Thou hast the right to noble pride, <br />Whose spotless robes were purified <br />By blood's severe baptism. <br />Upon thy brow the cross was laid, <br />And labour's painful sweat-beads made <br />A consecrating chrism. <br /> <br />No other race, or white or black, <br />When bound as thou wert, to the rack, <br />So seldom stooped to grieving; <br />No other race, when free again, <br />Forgot the past and proved them men <br />So noble in forgiving. <br /> <br />Go on and up! Our souls and eyes <br />Shall follow thy continuous rise; <br />Our ears shall list thy story <br />From bards who from thy root shall spring, <br />And proudly tune their lyres to sing <br />Of Ethiopia's glory.<br /><br />Paul Laurence Dunbar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ode-to-ethiopia/
