A Notable Dinner
Once the nation's chief was honored by the company of one,
Who to lift a fallen people had a work of worth begun,
Lofty things had he accomplished for a race so long despised,
In a land where naught but color by the whites are ever prized.
Booker Washington, the teacher, with the president has dined,
Southern whites it gave convulsions, for to such they're not inclined,
'Tis the color, not achievements, that their fancies recognize,
Whites alone receive their plaudits, Negro worth they will not prize.
Roosevelt was censured sorely, half the country writhed and hissed,
Just because he shared his dinner with a Negro—there's the gist—
'Twas the manhood not the color that the president admired,
Souls of worth demand attention, only such his mind desired.
'Down with Washington the 'nigger' and with Roosevelt, because
He has made of him an equal—how offensive to our laws,
Worthy deeds are not for black men' is the constant cry they raise,
'All advancement of such people brings proportionate dispraise.'
Hark! the press begins to clamor, to the South it says 'beware!
Lest equality with 'niggers' in the end we'll have to share;
Anti-nigger is our platform, how to crush a 'nigger' man,
Officers must be elected as resulting from this plan.'
Washington is far above him—-any man who fails to see,
Good when found upon a Negro, from a lack of charity,
See the Southern degradation! view the monster once again,
How it measures deeds of merit by the color of the skin.
Roosevelt was very careful on the choosing of a guest,
Here is what he did for Tillman, in his zeal to have the best,
Cancelled out his invitation and his company refused,
Dined the best of peoples only—other classes he excused.
Down with prejudice and envy! should be wafted to the breeze,
For the Southern slaves of fashion need a prompt and sure release,
In the teachings of the Master while the path of earth He trod,
We've a brotherhood of races and a Fatherhood of God.
The Peonage System
The religious wars of Europe have been numbered with the past,
But a worse thing, bright America with clouds has overcast,
'Tis the heinous contract system that plantation life contains,
Worse than slavery's conditions in a land where freedom reigns.
Negroes forced in one roomed cabins, mother's from their children torn
All the day till dark of evening from the dawn of early morn,
Sweet affection, thrift and neatness, all that perfect homes would bring,
Yea, humanity is buried at command of money's king.
Shall the future of the Negro by the white man be suppressed,
In his forcing from the present all that makes the future best?
Shall the training of the children be neglected? passing strange
Things material for the morals of the Negro they exchange.
Oft we find an overseer with a gun and club and whip,
Who at night within the stockade locks the Negroes, lest they skip,
If they offer a resistance for their treatment in this cage,
They are clubed into submission in the overseer's rage.
Some are kidnapped for the stockade, others taken there for debt,
Fed with only bread and water and for more they dare not fret,
They are worked like beasts of burden and the story here is told,
Of the sacrifice of manhood to a god that's made of gold!
'Tis an open, open secret how the white man without pain,
Sells the evil one his conscience out of greed for earthly gain,
Barbarism can't surpass it, races cannot lower fall,
'Mid this great enlightened country money's king rules over all.
If a farm hand makes an effort in the schooling of himself,
Or a mother will persist in looking up her little elf,
They must leave the old plantation for a more congenial clime,
'No enlightenment for Negroes,' planters say, ' 'tis loss of time.'
'Send to Africa the Negro,' they have talked of such you know,
Like to England's Irish question, planters cannot let him go,
Hear the planter loudly singing, this the chorus of the song:
'Keep the 'niggers,' all the 'niggers' in the field where they belong!'
Now he pleads for better treatment, why dehumanize a race?
On the farm he's proved his service and there's none to take his place,
None to stand the heat of summer in the making of the crop,
Whites are taught to need his labor and they cannot learn to stop.
Sad, indeed, to find a nation, bowing down to money's might,
Sacrificing all that's noble, all that's beautiful and right,
'Righteousness exalts a nation,' sin can only bring it shame,
Serve no other god, I warn you, in the God of heaven's name.
