FIFTY YEARS
 1863-1913

  O brothers mine, to-day we stand Where half a century sweeps our ken, Since God, through Lincoln's ready hand, Struck off our bonds and made us men. Just fifty years—a winter's day— As runs the history of a race; Yet, as we look back o'er the way, How distant seems our starting place! Look farther back! Three centuries! To where a naked, shivering score, Snatched from their haunts across the seas, Stood, wild-eyed, on Virginia's shore. Far, far the way that we have trod, From heathen kraals and jungle dens, To freedmen, freemen, sons of God, Americans and Citizens. A part of His unknown design, We've lived within a mighty age; And we have helped to write a line On history's most wondrous page. A few black bondmen strewn along The borders of our eastern coast, Now grown a race, ten million strong, An upward, onward marching host. Then let us here erect a stone, To mark the place, to mark the time;