Tag: Walter H. Brooks

  • A Black Man’s Appeal

    From The Washington Herald, July 13, 1913. By Walter H. Brooks, D. D., pastor of the Nineteenth Street Baptist Church, Washington, DC.

     By a “Christian People” hated,
         By these “Christians” robbed, outraged.
     We are outcasts in the nation—
         Weeping, praying, not enraged.
     
     Christless “Christians,” O the pity!
         Men who glory in their might,
     Strong to crush the weaker peoples,
         Blind to every sense of right.
     
     With their lips this nation honors
         Christ as teacher, Savior, Lord;
     What a mockery in splendor
         While their deeds with hell accord.
     
     Have the shepherds all forgotten,
         “Vengeance to our God belongs?”
     Did he not requite this people
         For past centuries of wrongs?
     
     O ye statesmen, save your people;
         Stay the madness of their hate,
     Lest the God of vengeance, rising,
         Bring them to a direr fate.
     
     Let the other nations teach you.
         Spain has lost a Western world;
     Where her standard proudly floated,
         Not a flag is now unfurled.
     
     England, too, unjust and cruel,
         Lost what now you boast with pride,
     And your ships of war, majestic,
         Every sea and ocean ride.
     
     Are you stronger than the Romans
         Who made all the world their own?
     Where are now the mighty Caesars?
         Pomp, and power, and lands are gone.
     
     Yes, the pride of ancient nations
         One by one has passed away.
     O ye statesmen, patriots, hear me:
         Stay our country’s final day.
     
     Laugh? They laughed and scorned the prophets
         Who foretold the Pharaohs’ fall,
     Proud Philistia’s kings derided,
         Hebrew monarchs, Assyrians, all.
     
     But their kingdoms, empires perished;
         Ancient ruins mark their states.
     God of nations, rise, defend us
         From this people’s galling hate.
     
     Guard our names from grossest slanders,
         Forged by men who hate the race;
     All the wrongs we bear, remember,
         Lighten every heart and face.
     
     Then though men and living demons
         Burn, and kill, and rob, and lie,
     We will brook our lot and conquer,
         Filled with power from on high.