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Atlanta Offering

by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

4 of 34 · Contents · Download EPUB

The Present Age

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 Buddhist 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.

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