This page is referenced by:

• 1 2018-10-25T07:00:32-07:00 Four Million Strong., by Ethel Trew Dunlap 15 plain 2018-10-27T05:49:40-07:00

  Four million with one single aim

  To loose the shackled hand!

  Four million who have turned their eyes

  Toward their fatherland.

   

  Four million who demand the stake

  Shall not consume their kin!

  Four million seeking human rights,

  With God to help them win.

   

  Four million pointing to the past:

  Its skeletons concealed!

  Four million organized at last,

  That tyrants be revealed.

   

  Four million crying for their rights

  To sail across the sea:

  Four million asking Liberty

  To set the black man free.

   

  Four million, children all of slaves,

  Reared under stripes and stars,

  Hemmed in by the Atlantic waves

  Oppressors turn to bars.

   

  Four million with one rally cry,

  And who are wide awake.

  Spurred on by hopes that cannot die

  For Egypt’s daughter’s sake.

   

  Four million souls inspired to march
  
  Wherever Freedom’s hand
  
  Shall beckon, and to thrill the hearts
  
  Of black men of this land.

   

  Four million who will not be hushed,

  Whose protests will not cease,

  Until their race, dragged through the mire,

  Shall find means of relief.

      Composed by Ethel Trew Dunlap.

  
  From the March 5, 1921 issue.
  
• 1 2018-10-25T07:07:30-07:00 In Respect to Marcus Garvey, by Ethel Trew Dunlap 4 plain 2019-05-31T19:39:18-07:00

  He loosed the shackles from the hand

  Bound for three-hundred years.

  His voice resounded through the land

  ‘Til millions sent up cheers.

   

  He led his race out from the tomb

  Of darkness and despair.

  That crushed hopes might revive and bloom

  In liberty’s pure air.

   

  He did not heed the cynic’s sneer--

  His soul fell in a dream.

  And critics could not hush the lips

  That spoke of freedom’s theme.

   

  He saw his mother country free--

  Behold her rising star.

  And begged his countrymen to flee

  Where kin and loved ones are.

   

  Inspired by God, one hundred years

  Became to him a day:

  He saw his kinsmen, heard their cry

  When future tyrants sway.

   

  He saw them swept like driven tide

  To Canada’s retreat,

  Confined there by the ocean bars,

  And trampled under feet.

   

  He saw his people pass away

  Like clouds that tempests rend.

  While idlers criticised and smiled,

  He was the black man’s friend.

   

  Fired with a patriotic zeal

  That fanned his loving heart.

  He yearned his native land ties

  That aliens tore apart.

   

  He saw a flag eyes could not see--

  A nation yet unborn--A land where black men might be free,

  The dawn of freedom’s morn.

   

  He did not deem the price too dear

  (Whatever it might be)

  For black men to regain their soil

  And set their country free.

   

  A Paul Revere that God hath raised

  Of Ethiopian fame,

  To rouse a nation and to fan

  Its fire into a flame.

   

  From the March 5, 1921 issue.
  
• 1 2018-10-25T06:57:56-07:00 Give Me the Rainbow, by Prof. O.M. Skinner 3 plain 2019-05-31T18:20:46-07:00

  If someone should make me an offer

  Of something dear and real

  And which should be a token good and true:

  Something to suit my color.

  And gives a hue for all,

  I think I’ll choose the rainbow,

  wouldn’t you?

   

  Give me the rainbow,

  The sign that is so true.

  And let me take my color

  And leave the rest for you.

  For all of such, you find so much.

  So give me the rainbow true

  No token is more truer:

  No emblem can be so dear;

  The one true sign of promise we are told.

  And if I have the rainbow

  Life sorrows when it rains

  Will find the rainbow sucking free and bold.

      Prof. O. M. Skinner.

  
  From the March 5, 1921 issue.
  
• 1 2018-10-25T06:59:17-07:00 The U.N.I.A., by Thomas H. Brooks 3 plain 2019-05-31T19:01:33-07:00

  The U.N.I.A. is a theme,

  Which millions are entwined

  With well wrought plans or business schemes,

  And brotherhood combined.

   

  It means that all should fall in line,

  With the advancing guide:

  Responding to the sign of time,

  The new emblem of pride.

   

  There are great adventures lie in wait,

  Make this a gorgeous year:

  Get out of that hesitating gate,

  The break of morn is near.

   

  Our far off kin, of whom we’ve dreamed,

  Beyond the tossing wave:

  Await our coming to redeem

  The land, which God has gave.

   

  About-face to that sunny shore!

  Where tyrants ruling bind:

  And hold enthralled, a stupid host

  Of untrained human mind.

   

  In one procession let us charge!

  Forth with the lofty theme:

  ‘Till nations all salute the bark

  That bear, red, black and green.

      Thomas H. Brooks,

      32 Granville Street, Piitsburgh, PA, Division 61.

  
  From the March 5, 1921 issue.