Prejudice Reproved

By Lydia H. Sigourney

God gave to Afric’s sons
A brow of sable dye;
And spread the country of their birth
Beneath a burning sky.

With a cheek of olive He made
The little Hindoo child;
And darkly stained the forest tribes,
That roam our Western wild.

To me He gave a form
Of fairer, whiter clay;
But am I, therefore, in his sight,
Respected more than they?

No;—’tis the hue of deeds and thoughts
He traces in his book;
’Tis the complexion of the heart
On which He deigns to look.

Not by the tinted cheek,
That fades away so fast,
But by the color of the soul,
We shall be judged at last.