Doth negro claim existence now
Who meek to unjust laws would bow
Without a protest on his brow,
And call himself a man?
Doth live a member of our race
Who dares not coward villains face
To drive them from their hiding place,
And thus for his rights stand?
Was e'er a dark hued infant born,
In childhood from its mother torn
And reared up in this land of scorn,
And yet doth love this land?
Was ever slave upon this soil
Contented year by year to toil
While ne'er, within, his blood did boil
To unshackle his hand?
Did e'er, while this proud nation's slave,
A negro's heart within him rave,
Yet, never he an utt'rance gave,
And claim right to this sod?
Did e'er Caucasian trade or bart
In human souls with dev'lish art,
Nor once was turned his stony heart,
And claim to serve his God?
Did e'er one of this paler tribe
Despoil his darker brother's bride,
Defy the law with threat or bribe,
And boast an honored name?
Did e'er a statesman in this land
Boast of his firm and rightful stand,
Nor tried to loose the fettered hand,
And claim a right to fame?