Charles Frederick White

Brightly now the sun is shining
On this Easter Sabbath morn:
Voices heav'nward are inclining;
And the sky's without a scorn.
...

Allene, sweet sister, with the blood
Of youth yet coursing through your cheeks,
I was informed, not long ago,
That you had quit attending school.
...

Oh Country, 'tis to thee,
Land of the lynching bee,
To thee we wail.
How long shall these base wrongs
...

I care not how soon I leave here;
Leave this cruel, lonely world:
I've a longing to depart to
Where the flag of peace, unfurled,
...

'Tis not winter time yet, my dear heart,
Though autumn has crept through the air;
'Tis not time to be sad and lonely;
...

I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast brought
Me to this age, that Thou hast wrought
Such miracles and wondrous things
...

Hail! ye heroes who yet stand!
Hail the martyr of our land!
Hail him who for his country delved!
Him who the great rebellion quelled!
...

Ah! You're quite a jolly girl I see.
Where are you from?
You are just the kind I'd have you be;
You're full of fun:
...

In the soul is born a feeling,
Or a sentiment, called love,
Which is nursed, caressed and cherished
With care, tender, from Above.
...

Had I a land that I might call my home,
I would be glad;
But I'm compelled this cruel world to roam
With feeling sad,
...

Doth negro claim existence now
Who meek to unjust laws would bow
Without a protest on his brow,
And call himself a man?
...

I wonder why the Negro should be hated;
He has done no great wrong unto mankind:
He was out of the same crude dust created
...

As I look on the dreary day,
From which the warmth of sun has flown,
My thoughts seem wand'ring far away,
As though past mem'ries back had blown.
...

Hark! I hear the sound of singing,
And of sleigh-bells, gaily ringing,
And the sound of steeds fast springing,
Fleeting o'er the frozen snow.
...

Lord, our God and Father up in heav'n, we praise Thy name:
May Thy kingdom holy on this earth e'er be the same.
...

'Tis a pleasant Sunday morning,
And the sun is shining clear,
Ever giving us a warning
That our God is always near.
...

I have come, as it were, from nowhere;
I have no cherished home:
I am welcomed by high and low folk,
Wherever I may roam.
...

The day is mild, the spring is here,
The blithest season of the year:
Although the ground's o'erlaid with snow,
...

T'ward the last of bleak December
When the northern fields are bare,
When the trees are still and leafless,
...

Contented, he was lured from homeland;
Free, he has been captive made;
Though human, he was bound in chains and
...