(For Marian Anderson)
I am Black and proud,
O Daughters of the American Revolution,
Like the soil of Creation,
Like the land of Mother Africa.
Do not look at me with contempt because I am Black.
Your mythology says I am sun‑burnt,
That my forefathers were cursed.
My forebears sold my ancestors into slavery,
Made generations toilers of the land;
But the land I made great rejected me
When I came up from slavery.
You found other ways to keep me down,
Would not allow me to sing my song
In this land that is mine as well as yours.
My forefathers fought in the American Revolution,
My foremothers supported the Civil War,
My father fought to make the world safe for democracy,
My brother would fight to end all wars.
How dare you not allow me to sing my song!
I will lift my voice and sing,
I will sing a song of sweet liberty,
I will sing so loud the earth will be torn asunder,
I will sing so loud those war dead will rise.
Listen, and hear the angels weep,
Listen, the temple’s curtains have been rent,
Listen, and know that God speaks through me.
Hear my voice, O Daughters of the American Revolution,
Hear my voice and eat your hearts out!