Remembering Four Centuries of Africans In America

Fields where the bondman’s toil No more shall trench the soil, Seem now to bask in a serener day; The meadow-birds sing sweeter, and the airs Of heaven with more caressing softness play, Welcoming man to liberty like theirs. A glory clothes the land from sea to sea, For the great land and all its coasts are free. From “The Death of Slavery” - Poem by William Cullen Bryant On this August day unclouded and drenched by sun, Millions gaze back down history’s road of red dirt For a testimony in memory strong enough to assert The four-century path of great wrong they had to run. All men are created equal…that famous creed… Spoke by the founders in bigotry and greed To buy them a selfish liberty and us a silent grave, To make narrow-minds reign and tolerance die, And to raise their banner over the head of the slave, Adding their mark of racism to God’s clear blue sky. In our heart our souls await the Lord’s avenging day And for the winds of heaven to waft and play. Thank God for legs able to march four hundred years And for arms strong enough to make the enemy flee. We now plead by the Psalms of David to be free, With words so grave as to not be eluded by ears. No longer bewildered by the curse of Cain, Undaunted we march with God’s justice to gain. Our steps have caused the infringed land to quake, As we roll on dreaming of our liberty to seize A treasure that generations assayed to take, Knowing deeply that nothing less will appease. This four-century trek has mitigated our dread, Preparing us to raise our banner over their head. Though our wisdom can enable us to vilify injustice, We must depend on God to defeat its monstrous sins-- For it is by His wisdom that the arc of justice bends, And continue to show our faith for Him to trust us. Four centuries we have called on God to break the chain And return to us our strength and passion once again. The day has come for us to stand and face the sunrise, With a new spirit and a shout of joy for the new day. We must now escape this virtual yoke of lies And standfast in the liberty for which Christ did pay. A hymn of thanks we sing for a long-awaited deliverance And for the glorious liberty of the children of Providence.