Little of beauty has America given the world save the rude grandeur God himself stamped on her bosom the human spirit in this new world has expressed itself in vigor and ingenuity rather than in beauty. Out of them rose for me morning, noon, and night, bursts of wonderful melody, full of the voices of my brothers and sisters, full of the voices of the past. To me Jubilee Hall seemed ever made of the songs themselves, and its bricks were red with the blood and dust of toil. Then in after years when I came to Nashville I saw the great temple builded of these songs towering over the pale city. They came out of the South unknown to me, one by one, and yet at once I knew them as of me and of mine. Ever since I was a child these songs have stirred me strangely. And so before each thought that I have written in this book I have set a phrase, a haunting echo of these weird old songs in which the soul of the black slave spoke to men. They that walked in darkness sang songs in the olden days-Sorrow Songs-for they were weary at heart. I'll go to judgment in the evening of the day,Īnd my soul and thy soul shall meet that day, I'll lie in the grave and stretch out my arms, I walk in the moonlight, I walk in the starlight You should visit Browse Happy and update your internet browser today! The embedded audio player requires a modern internet browser.
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