The creed I hold is too divine To be walled in by a color line. I praise the Lord for a humble place In the mighty Anglo-Saxon race. All circles of loyalty I prize, But a vaster vision greets my eyes. I shout for the East, I shout for the West— I shout for our nation God has blest, But my horizon is the race— Its radius great as God's own grace. From my heart's embrace I let none go, Whether man in the mansion, or "man with the hoe"— Hurrah for humanity's rich, red blood, That throbs its way to the throne of God. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GLASS HOUSES by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON RESCUE by JEAN STARR UNTERMEYER LAUGHING SONG, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE TEARS IN SLEEP by LOUISE BOGAN THE FLOWER OF FINAE by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS ON LENDING A PUNCH BOWL by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES |