NO ROOM IN THE INN.
REV. A. K. SPENCE, FISK UNIVERSITY.
The occasion of the accompanying lines was this: While President Hayes’ Peace Policy was being applauded through the land, a young colored student, on his way to Fisk University, was detained overnight at a station, as the trains did not make connection. A hotel was near by, but he could not gain admission. He asked the privilege of remaining in the depot, but that was not granted; so he spent the whole night in the open air, pacing up and down to keep warm and pass the time away.
Ought there not to be in every hotel some comfortable place where a colored man can get food and shelter?
The weary stars went slowly westward to their rest,
And others from the east climbed up the zenith’s crest,
And chill winds smote him, shivering in the gloomy night.
Turning his wistful gaze to catch the morning light,
There, wrapped in sleep, on couches soft and warm,
The slumberers dream sweet dreams, nor think of fear or harm.
What has he done, with guilty hand and soul of sin,
That thus he stalks about, nor seeks the cheerful inn?
His brow is dark, and dark the night, and dark his soul—
A tripple sea of gloom, whose waters o’er him roll!
And faith in man and God is low within his breast;
With many a bitter thought his heart is sore oppressed.
Like outlawed villain, stealing from the sight of men,
He crouches down, as if to sleep, nor slumbers then!
Athwart the darkness to his darker soul within,
The tantalizing light comes from the inn!
But yesterday, huzzas came from a million throats,
’Mid cannon’s boom and beat of drum and bugle’s notes,
And banners waved, and flowers were scattered by the fair,
And songs of peace and joy were in the quivering air;
And brothers, long estranged, clasped brothers once again,
And swore eternal peace and equal rights to men—
For him, though wrapped in clean attire, but sable skin,
No hospitable room is offered at the inn!
Oh, brothers of this mighty land, from South to North,
Grasp hands of greeting, pour your pæans forth!
And ne’er by brother’s hand may brother’s blood be shed,
With burning towns and trampled fields and mangled dead!
Forget the past, nor let it rankle in your breast;
Rejoice together of one glorious land possessed!
But, oh! forget not him who, not for any sin,
But for the thing God made him, is debarred the inn!
Oh, peaceful President of this great land, to thee
All thanks for thy good words for old fraternity!
Thy name shall be inscribed in gold on history’s page,
And read by countless multitudes from age to age,
If thou shalt teach a people, long in strife and feud,
To dwell in unity and seek each other’s good;
From prejudice of section, creed and race shalt win,
So all of every name and hue shall share the inn!
Oh, brother of the sable brow, my brother, mine,
The night is dark and long, and yet the sun shall shine;
Patience be thine, and God-like charity and love,
And eye of faith and hope that looks to One above.
For scorn give benediction, and for insult prayer;
And go to Bethlehem’s manger, and remember there
Another was like thee, who, sinless, bore our sin!
And there shall yet be room for Christ, and thee, within the inn!