I saw his skin
and loved him not.
“I see a colored man,” I cried,
and proudly went my way.
But when I prayed to God that night
He sadly turned aside.

I looked again
and saw a man.
“I see a Negro, Lord,” I cried,
and pity filled my heart.
Expecting praise, I prayed once more,
but still He turned aside.

And now I stared
and saw myself.
“Dear God, he’s Black like me,” I cried
and took his hand in mind.
Then when I said, “You’re beautiful,”
God turned to me with pride.