Posted by: W. E. Poplaski | January 21, 2009

POEM OF THE DAY: Tuskegee

by Leslie Pinckney Hill (1880 – 1960).

 

Tuskegee

 

Wherefore this busy labor without rest? 

Is it an idle dream to which we cling, 

Here where a thousand dusky toilers sing 

Unto the world their hope? “Build we our best. 

By hand and thought,” they cry, “although unblessed.”           5

So the great engines throb, and anvils ring, 

And so the thought is wedded to the thing; 

But what shall be the end, and what the test? 

Dear God, we dare not answer, we can see 

Not many steps ahead, but this we know—                                  10

If all our toilsome building is in vain, 

Availing not to set our manhood free, 

If envious hate roots out the seed we sow, 

The South will wear eternally a stain.

 

Notes:

http://www.answers.com/topic/leslie-pinckney-hill

http://www.blackpast.org/?q=aah/hill-leslie-pinckney-1880-1960


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