April Is National Poetry Month! 

 

THE FIGHT IS ON

MARCUS GARVEY

1. The fight is on to-day,
The glory is at hand;
No more must we delay,
But join the marching band.

Chorus:
The field is ever open,
For those of courage great,
For Heav'n has sent its token,
So march to glorious fate.

2. The Prophets told us when
The time would come to speak,
And through the greatest men
God's help, in faith, to seek.

3. Throughout the live long day,
As battles we do fight,
The Cross of Christ display,
To keep Him all in sight.

4. In conflicts of the night,
The stars will lead us on,
So strike with all your might,
And raise the Pilgrim's song.

1934

April Is National Poetry Month! 

 A RALLYING SONG

MARCUS GARVEY

1. Oh glorious race of mighty men,

The homeland calls to you;
Our fathers wrought with faith divine,
So let us march in line. (Refrain)

2. If foe we meet across the way,
Our courage hold on high,
For Victory is near at hand,
So march ye with the band.
Refrain: Oh glorious race, Etc.

3. Old Africa is calling you,
So wave the banner high;
No foe shall win the glorious day,
Shout ye, and march and pray.
Refrain: Oh glorious race, Etc.

4. Our God is leading us away,
And land and seas divide,
For hosts are here in royal form,
March on and fear no storm.
Refrain: Oh glorious race, Etc.

5. New Africa beholds the sight,
The world will tremble then,
Good men of might will worship God
And bless the heaving sod.
Refrain: Oh glorious race, Etc.

6. Tell the people everywhere you go,
"The day is here again,"
The Ethiopian's God appears
To deal with all affairs.

1934  

April Is National Poetry Month! 

 

KEEP COOL (A SONG)

MARCUS GARVEY

Suns have set and suns will rise

Upon many gloomy lives;
Those who sit around and say:
"Nothing good comes down our way."
Some say: "What's the use to try,
Life is awful hard and dry."
If they'd bring such news to you,
This is what you ought to do.

Chorus
Let no trouble worry you;
Keep cool, keep cool!
Don't get hot like some folk do,
Keep cool, keep cool!
What's the use of prancing high
While the world goes smiling by.
You can win if you would try,
Keep cool, keep cool.

Throw your troubles far away,
Smile a little every day,
And the sun will start to shine,
Making life so true and fine.
Do not let a little care
Fill your life with grief and fear:
Just be calm, be brave and true,
Keep your head and you'll get through.

Chorus
Let no trouble worry you;
Keep cool, keep cool!
just be brave and ever true;
Keep cool, keep cool!
If they'd put you in a flame,
Though you should not bear the blame,
Do not start to raising cane,
Keep cool, keep cool.

 April Is National Poetry Month!

A RECITATIVE SONG! 

(For Julius Winston Garvey)

MARCUS GARVEY

1. I am a little soldier, fighting hard for life,

I came upop the scene of cruel human strife,
My father taught me to be always good and true,
And in the battle ever try to be a blue.

2. I've met so many hard and awful blows, you know,
But friends, I heard that "we shall reap just what we sow,"
So I shall e'er a Negro man of courage be,
And work with other noble men who'll toil with me.

3. I promise to engage in what is good and right,
And for the cause of race to make a manly fight;
The world shall be my cautious battle stage,
For I shall follow wisely footprints of old age.

4. The endless fight of men for right against the wrong,
Shall steel my youthful courage on and make me strong;
But I shall need God's help all seasons of the year,
To safely fight for you with heart that's void of fear.

5. The Negro's cause is now beset with many darts,
But we can win if we have true and loyal hearts;
Young though I be, I'll stand and march with you,
If you will serve and hold the line, like men-true blue.

1934

April Is National Poetry Month! 

 

THE BLACK MOTHER 

MARCUS GARVEY

Where can I find love that never changes

Smiles that are true and always just the same,
Caring not how the fierce tempest rages,
Willing ever to shield my honored name?

This I find at home, only with Mother,
Who cares for me with patient tenderness;
She from every human pain would rather
Save me, and drink the dregs of bitterness.

If on life's way I happen to flounder,
My true thoughts should be of Mother dear,
She is the rock that ne'er rifts asunder,
The cry of her child, be it far or near.

This is love wonderful beyond compare;
It is God's choicest gift to mortal man;
You, who know Mother, in this thought must share,
For, she, of all, is Angel of your Clan.

My Mother is black, loveliest of all;
Yes, she is as pure as the new made morn;
Her song of glee is a clear rythmic call
To these arms of love to which I was born.

I shall never forget you, sweet Mother,
Where'er in life I may happen to roam;
Thou shalt always be the Fairy Charmer
To turn my dearest thoughts to things at home.

1927

April Is National Poetry Month! 

BLACK WOMAN

MARCUS GARVEY

Black queen of beauty, thou hast given color to the world!
Among other women thou art royal and the fairest!
Like the brightest of jewels in the regal diadem,
Shin'st thou, Goddess of Africa, Nature's purest emblem!

Black men worship at thy virginal shrine of truest love,
Because in thine eyes are virtue's steady and holy mark,
As we see in no other, clothed in silk or fine linen,
From ancient Venus, the Goddess, to mythical Helen.

When Africa stood at the head of the elder nations,
The Gods used to travel from foreign lands to look at thee:
On couch of costly Eastern materials, all perfumed,
Reclined thee, as in thy path flow'rs were strewn-
sweetest that bloomed.

Thy transcendent marvelous beauty made the whole world mad,
Bringing Solomon to tears as he viewed thy comeliness;
Anthony and the elder Ceasars wept at thy royal feet,
Preferring death than to leave thy presence, their foes to meet.

You, in all ages, have attracted the adoring world,
And caused many a bloody banner to be unfurled:
You have sat upon exalted and lofty eminence,
To see a world fight in your ancient African defense.

Today you have been dethroned, through the weakness of your men,
While, in frenzy, those who of yore craved your smiles and your hand-
Those who were all monsters and could not with love approach you-
Have insulted your pride and now attack your good virtue.

Because of disunion you became mother of the world,
Giving tinge of robust color to five continents,
Making a greater world of millions of colored races,
Whose claim to beauty is reflected through our black faces.

From the handsome Indian to European brunette,
There is a claim for that credit of their sunny beauty
That no one can e'er to take from thee, 0 Queen of all
women

Who have borne trials and troubles and racial burden.
Once more we shall, in Africa, fight and conquer for you,
Restoring the pearly crown that proud Queen Sheba did wear:
Yea, it may mean blood, it may mean death; but still we shall fight,

Bearing our banners to Vict'ry, men of Afric's might.
Superior Angels look like you in Heaven above,
For thou art fairest, queen of the seasons, queen of our love:
No condition shall make us ever in life desert thee,
Sweet Goddess of the ever green land and placid blue sea.

February 28, 1927  

April Is National Poetry Month! 

YOUR DUTY TO-MORROW

MARCUS GARVEY

WITH GOD'S GRACE-
Look back and help for humanity's sake.
Measure your charity by the acts of others toward you
while you were climbing.

Forget not the past with all its good and ill reports.
Contemplate your future by the experiences you have had,
If you must strike to live, strike hard and sure.

1933