From Afric’s sunny country
From Ethiopia’s world
[Whose land] is full of bounty
And sands rolled down [with] gold.
From many a silent river
From many a sun kissed [illegible]
They call us to deliver
Their land from error’s chain
For though the spicy breezes
Blow soft o’er Afric’s soil
All other prospect [illegible]
And man alone is vile.
In hope we raise our voices
To Thee the God above--
O show us some devices
With which to show our love
We shall not rest in silence
We shall not hold our peace
Until the accursed violence
Upon thy people cease.
O give us faith to conquer
O give us strength to fight
Until shall cease our languor
That men shall see the light.
And then shall waft the story
O’er mountain, hill and plain
To God belongs the glory
Christ has not died in vain.
For Afric’s trodden nation
Shall know the God of might
Shall seek His free salvation
And battle for the right.
Prof. O. M. Skinner
620 Lenox Avenue, New York