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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391839" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Martyr of Alabama</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Tim Thompson, a little negro boy, was asked to dance for the amusement of some white toughs. He refused, saying he was a church member. One of the men knocked him down with a club and then danced upon his prostrate form. He then shot the boy in the hip. The boy is dead; his murderer is still at large.&quot; -- News Item.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>He lifted up his pleading eyes, <br>And scanned each cruel face, <br>Where cold and brutal cowardice <br>Had left its evil trace. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">It was when tender memories <br>Round Beth'lem's manger lay, <br>And mothers told their little ones <br>Of Jesu's natal day. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And of the Magi from the East <br>Who came their gifts to bring, <br>And bow in rev'rence at the feet <br>Of Salem's new-born King. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And how the herald angels sang <br>The choral song of peace, <br>That war should close his wrathful lips, <br>And strife and carnage cease. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">At such an hour men well may hush <br>Their discord and their strife, <br>And o'er that manger clasp their hands <br>With gifts to brighten life. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alas! that in our favored land, <br>That cruelty and crime <br>Should cast their shadows o'er a day. <br>The fairest pearl of time. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">A dark-browed boy had drawn anear <br>A band of savage men, <br>Just as a hapless lamb might stray <br>Into a tiger's den. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Cruel and dull, they saw in him <br>For sport an evil chance, <br>And then demanded of the child <br>To give to them a dance. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Come dance for us,&quot; the rough men said; <br>&quot;I can't,&quot; the child replied, <br>&quot;I cannot for the dear Lord's sake, <br>Who for my sins once died.&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tho' they were strong and he was weak, <br>He wouldn't his Lord deny. <br>His life lay in their cruel hands, <br>But he for Christ could die. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Heard they aright? Did that brave child <br>Their mandates dare resist? <br>Did he against their stern commands <br>Have courage to insist? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then recklessly a man arose, <br>And dealt a fearful blow. <br>He crushed the portals of that life, <br>And laid the brave child low. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And trampled on his prostrate form, <br>As on a broken toy; <br>Then danced with careless, brutal feet, <br>Upon the murdered boy. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Christians! behold that martyred child! <br>His blood cries from the ground; <br>Before the sleepless eye of God, <br>He shows each gaping wound. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh! Church of Christ arise! arise! <br>Lest crimson stain thy hand, <br>When God shall inquisition make <br>For blood shed in the land. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Take sackcloth of the darkest hue, <br>And shroud the pulpits round; <br>Servants of him who cannot lie <br>Sit mourning on the ground. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let holy horror blanch each brow, <br>Pale every cheek with fears, <br>And rocks and stones, if ye could speak, <br>Ye well might melt to tears. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Through every fane send forth a cry, <br>Of sorrow and regret, <br>Nor in an hour of careless ease <br>Thy brother's wrongs forget. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Veil not thine eyes, nor close thy lips, <br>Nor speak with bated breath; <br>This evil shall not always last, <br>The end of it is death. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Avert the doom that crime must bring <br>Upon a guilty land; <br>Strong in the strength that God supplies, <br>For truth and justice stand. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For Christless men, with reckless hands, <br>Are sowing round thy path <br>The tempests wild that yet shall break <br>In whirlwinds of God's wrath.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Frances+Ellen+Watkins+Harper">Frances Ellen Watkins Harper</a><div class=q>
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