ETHIOPIA'S
PETITION
By
ANNA SHIELDS
'
ETHIOPIA'S PETITION
BY
ANNA SHIELDS
S
AT THE AUTHOR'S
97 WALDEN STREET
CAMBRIDGE. MASSACHUSETTS
TO
CRISPUS ATTUCKS
THE FIRST MARTYR IN THE BOSTON MASSACRE
MARCH 5, 1770
I DEDICATE THESE LINES
Cambridge, Mass., May 1918,
1Ett|toptaa Jtetttiim
SING! Sing ! Oh, sing, sweet bird,
Thy rippling carol strange and weird,
Telling of pleasures and joys to come,
Though raindrops are falling in torrents down.
Sing of the Master who guards thy nest
Whilst thou art sleeping in peace and rest,
Who provides thy need at peep of dawn,
Thy bath of dew, the wriggling worm.
Sing of thy ,beauty, oh bird of the wing,
As you soar on your pinions heavenward, sing ;
Sing to your Father and mine above,
Pour out to Him our passion of love.
Tell Him, I am a prisoner here,
Entombed in a dungeon of doubt and fear,
Doubting He hears His children's call,
Fearing for want of faith we fall.
Tell Him, dear bird, in your song so sweet,
We've been ever faithful, patient, meek ;
We've borne our burden through heat of day,
And ever and always to Him we pray.
4
ETHIOPIA'S
But the seed of injustice is deeper sown,
The hand of oppression has stronger grown,
Till we are submerged, yea, almost drowned,
As we are pushed aside with curse and frown.
Take my petition, sweet bird of the air,
Ask God, is there no place anywhere
For His seed, His children, His elect ?
Surely He cannot His own forget.
Take my petition, sweet throated bird,
Far into the Heavens in your songs without words;
Let it waft on the breeze till it reaches God's throne;
He has promised we should not mourn alone.
Great is the blessing you might do;
He may send a message, dear bird, by you.
Could your song but soften a tyrant's heart
And bid the stream of justice start!
Oh, how we'd grasp the God-given peace
That would come to us at our release
From racial prejudice and hate !
Oh, take my prayer to the very gate !
Of our Father's Kingdom sing aloud,
Far, far above the misty clouds!
Pour out my petition until you're heard,
Bring back God's answer, oh sweet, sweet bird!
PETITION
5
And while away, dear bird, you soar,
I, too, shall sing, though my heart is sore.
Our songs intermingled shall form the key
That unlocks the door of Liberty !
This the theme of my song, dear bird,
Listen close, catch every word ;
Equality, Justice, as man to man;
Our birthright, let Ethiopia stretch forth her hand.
May she sit in peace 'neath her own fig tree,
From bondage be forever free;
No more in derision may her name be heard;
This is my petition: take it up, sweet bird.
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THE ANSWER
Attarorr
In the City of the Celestial
A cry one day was heard,
A mournful, piteous wailing,
Like that of a wounded bird.
A fair spirit caught the echo
And bent an attentive ear,
Hovered about the gates of gold,
Eager to see and to hear.
And aloft the bird's repining
Was wafted through echoless space,
Flitted hither and yon, at last finding
The one who, with stately grace,
Bid it pour out its song of anguish
Till it reached the courts afar.
It no longer grieved or was languid,
It found the gates ajar,
And sang : " Oh, hear the petition
I bring from an anguished breast,
Moaning the sad condition
Of a people who seem bereft.
THE-ANSWER
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Of a father, friend or brother,
Their blood ties they dare not trace;
The enemy nursed the breasts of their mothers,
Yet they disown the dark hued race.
They've bound her in chains and thrust her
To the uttermost dephths of despair,
By prejudice, jealousy, hatred,
Though they have enough and to spare.
The've closed up their bowels of compassion,
" Keep him down, they say, don't let him rise."
The rope and the bonfire their fashion,
Regardless of pitious cries.
As they are crying : " Is God our Father ?
Oh, why does He suffer.this done ?
In mercy, oh God, we beseach Thee,
Own and protect Thy sons ! "
Their breasts have laid bare for the weapon,
Their backs have laid bare for the lash,
Their hearts have been bruised, yea, stept on,
From homes they've been driven aghast.
But with humility of spirit,
With patience born of despair,
They await Thy long deferred promise
In the pages of life so fair.
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THE ANSWER
" Blessed are the poor in spirit,
For they shall inherit the earth."
Surely their attitude merits
Their release from this hideous curse.
Finished the notes of the songster ;
Lifeless it fell to the earth,
But the Father of Love had knowledge,
And its death but heralded the birth
Of a raging war, in which freedom
Was the keynote and the plan,
That the curse be wiped out with prayer
O'er many a blood-soaked land.
And nation should war against nation.
The first, second, third born should be slain,
Till injustice throughout creation
Be wiped out with the crimson stain.
The Petition of the oppressed one
Was signed at God's command ;
The Answer, a swift and just one,
Which eternally shall stand.
And now henceforth and ever,
The oppressor must bite the dust.
Oh, Brothers, love one another!
God's precepts shall not rust.