620                       A.  M.  E. REVIEW.

     High visioned hordes that lie and steal and kill,
     Sinning the sin each separate heart disclaims,
     Clambering upon our riven writhing selves,
     Besieging Heaven by trampling men to Hell!

     We be blood-guilty! Lo, our hands be red!
     Not one may blame the other in this sin!
     But here-here in the white Silence of the Dawn,
     Before the Womb of Time,
     With bowed hearts all flame and shame,
     We face the birth-pangs of a world:
    We hear the stifled cry of Nations all but born--
    The wail of women ravished of their stunted brood!
    We see the nakedness of Toil, the poverty of Wealth,
    We know the Anarchy of Empire, and doleful Death of Life
    And hearing, seeing, knowing all, we cry:

    Save us, World-Spirit, from our lesser selves!
    Grant us that war and hatred cease,
    Reveal our souls in every race and hue!
    Help us, O Human God, in this Thy Truce
    To make Humanity divine!
  (Read before the Universal Races Congress in London.)


                         "THE HOLY CITY."
  Thirty men, red-eyed and disheveled, lined up before a judge of the San
Francisco police court. It was the regular morning company of "drunks
and disorderlies." Some were old and hardened, others hung their heads
in shame. Just as the momentary disorder attending the bringing in of
the prisoners quieted down, a strange thing happened. A strong, clear
voice from below began singing:
                        "Last night I lay a-sleeping,
                        There came a dream so fair."
  Last night! It had been for them all a nightmare or a drunken stupor.
The song was such a contrast to the horrible fact that no one could fail of
a sudden shock at the thought the song suggested.
                         "I stood in old Jerusalem,
                         Beside the temple there"
the song went on. The judge had paused. He made a quiet inquiry. A
former member of a famous opera company, known all over the country,
was awaiting trial for forgery. It was he who was singing in his cell.
  Meantime the song went on and every man in the line showed emotion.
One or two dropped on their knees; one boy at the end of the line, after a




			

OHS/National Afro-American Museum & Cultural Center Serial Collection

African Methodist Episcopal Church Review, Vol. 28, Num. 2

Volume:  28
Issue Number:  02
Date:  10/1911