Here we find the summit roomy,
Here we see a faithful few;
Who have stood life’s stormy billows,
And its obstacles did subdue.
Now we’ll not sit here in comfort,
Just because we’ve reached our goal;
For love and sympathy we’ll be up and doing,
Helping some other struggling soul.
When we reach life’s golden summit,
A new work awaits to be begun;
So we must keep moving onward,
Till all the work of this life is done.
[A RISEN RACE]
Before eighteen hundred and sixty-five,
Slavery was in its glory;
Till Lincoln struck it a powerful blow,
Which remains to tell the story.
This story is a wonderful truth,
The story of our race;
How it has risen in fifty years,
Amid the difficulties it had to face.
We started upward fifty years ago,
With the foundation already laid;
It was laid for all by Jesus Christ,
Who gives us strength and aid.
What other race upon the globe,
That has had such trials and fears;
And has risen like the Negro race,
In these fifty years.