Anon approaches a critical sage, Unrolling the record from age to age, And cries in a cold and cynical whine, "My brotherhood stops with the color line— The Anglo-Saxon race for me— The race that was and is to be; Down with the rest, a mongrel herd, Whether Jap or German, Swede or Kurd!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UNWANTED MEMORY by CLARENCE MAJOR JOHN BARLEYCORN by ROBERT BURNS BY THE ALMA RIVER by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK THE LOVER'S MESSAGE; SONG by JOHN DRYDEN THE VISION (1) by ROBERT HERRICK THE DAYS GONE BY by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY |