The Poetry Corner

The Present Age.

By Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

Say not the age is hard and cold - I think it brave and grand; When men of diverse sects and creeds Are clasping hand in hand. The Parsee from his sacred fires Beside the Christian kneels; And clearer light to Islam's eyes The word of Christ reveals. The Brahmin from his distant home Brings thoughts of ancient lore; The Bhuddist breaking bonds of caste Divides mankind no more. The meek-eyed sons of far Cathay Are welcome round the board; Not greed, nor malice drives away These children of our Lord. And Judah from whose trusted hands Came oracles divine; Now sits with those around whose hearts The light of God doth shine. Japan unbars her long sealed gates From islands far away; Her sons are lifting up their eyes To greet the coming day. The Indian child from forests wild Has learned to read and pray; The tomahawk and scalping knife From him have passed away. From centuries of servile toil The Negro finds release, And builds the fanes of prayer and praise Unto the God of Peace. England and Russia face to face With Central Asia meet; And on the far Pacific coast, Chinese and natives greet. Crusaders once with sword and shield The Holy Land to save; From Moslem hands did strive to clutch The dear Redeemer's grave. A battle greater, grander far Is for the present age; A crusade for the rights of man To brighten history's page. Where labor faints and bows her head, And want consorts with crime; Or men grown faithless sadly say That evil is the time. There is the field, the vantage ground For every earnest heart; To side with justice, truth and right And act a noble part. To save from ignorance and vice The poorest, humblest child; To make our age the fairest one On which the sun has smiled; To plant the roots of coming years In mercy, love and truth; And bid our weary, saddened earth Again renew her youth. Oh! earnest hearts! toil on in hope, 'Till darkness shrinks from light; To fill the earth with peace and joy, Let youth and age unite: To stay the floods of sin and shame That sweep from shore to shore; And furl the banners stained with blood, 'Till war shall be no more. Blame not the age, nor think it full Of evil and unrest; But say of every other age, "This one shall be the best." The age to brighten every path By sin and sorrow trod; For loving hearts to usher in The commonwealth of God.