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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345816" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Song Of The Negro Boatmen</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">O, praise an' tanks! De Lord he come <br>To set de people free; <br>An' massa tink it day ob doom, <br>An' we ob jubilee. <br>De Lord dat heap de Red Sea waves <br>He jus' as 'trong as den; <br>He say de word: we las' night slaves; <br>To-day, de Lord's freemen. <br>De yam will grow, de cotton blow, <br>We'll hab de rice an' corn: <br>O nebber you fear, if nebber you hear <br>De driver blow his horn! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ole massa on he trabbels gone; <br>He leaf de land behind; <br>De Lord's breff blow him furder on, <br>Like corn-shuck in de wind. <br>We own de hoe, we own de plough, <br>We own de hands dat hold; <br>We sell de pig, we sell de cow, <br>But nebber chile be sold. <br>De yam will grow, de cotton blow, <br>We'll hab de rice an' corn: <br>O nebber you fear, if nebber you hear <br>De driver blow his horn! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">We pray de Lord: he gib us signs <br>Dat some day we be free; <br>De norf-wind tell it to de pines, <br>De wild-duck to de sea; <br>We tink it when de church-bell ring, <br>We dream it in de dream; <br>De rice-bird mean it when he sing, <br>De eagle when he scream. <br>De yam will grow, de cotton blow, <br>We'll hab de rice an' corn: <br>O nebber you fear, if nebber you hear <br>De driver blow his horn! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">We know de promise nebber fail, <br>An' nebber lie de word; <br>So like de 'postles in de jail, <br>We waited for de Lord: <br>An' now he open ebery door <br>An' trow away de key; <br>He tink we lub him so before, <br>We lub him better free. <br>De yam will grow, de cotton blow, <br>He'll gib de rice an' corn: <br>O nebber you fear, if nebber you hear <br>De driver blow his horn! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So sing our dusky gondoliers; <br>And with a secret pain, <br>And smiles that seem akin to tears, <br>We hear the wild refrain. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">We dare not share the negro's trust, <br>Nor yet his hope deny; <br>We only know that God is just, <br>And every wrong shall die. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Rude seems the song; each swarthy face <br>Flame-lighted, ruder still: <br>We start to think that hapless race <br>Must shape our good or ill; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">That laws of changeless justice bind <br>Oppressor with oppressed; <br>And, close as sin and suffering joined, <br>We march to Fate abreast. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sing on, poor hearts! your chant shall be <br>Our sign of blight or bloom,— <br>The Vala-song of Liberty, <br>Or death-rune of our doom!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anonymous+Americas">Anonymous Americas</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345816" data-title="The Song Of The Negro Boatmen de Anonymous Americas" data-description="O, praise an' tanks! De Lord he come 
To set de people free; 
An' massa tink it day ob doom, 
An' we ob jubilee. 
De Lord dat heap de Red Sea waves 
He jus' as 'trong as den; 
He say de word: we las' night slaves; 
To-day, de Lord's freemen. 
De y..."></div>
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