The Brave Forget. It Is Those Who

My Poems Please The Brave: My Poems, Short And Sincere, Have The Force Of Steel Which Forges Swords.

To Change Masters Is Not To Be Free.

Only Those Who Hate The Negro See Hatred In The Negro.

But Love, Like The Sun That It Is, Sets Afire And Melts Everything. What Greed And Privilege To Build Up Over Whole Centuries The Indignation Of A Pious Spirit, With Its Natural Following Of Oppressed Souls, Will Cast Down With A Single Shove.

Mountains Culminate In Peaks, And Nations In Men.