To the White Fiends
by Robert Owens
Think you I am not fiend and savage too?
Think you I could not arm me with a gun
And shoot down ten of you for every one
Of my black brothers murdered, burnt by you?
Be not deceived, for every deed you do
I could match — out-match: am I not Africa’s son,
Black of that black land where black deeds are done?
But the Almighty from the darkness drew
My soul and said: Even thou shaft be a light
Awhile to burn on the benighted earth,
Thy dusky face I set among the white
For thee to prove thyself of highest worth;
Before the world is swallowed up in night,
To show thy little lamp: go forth, go forth!
3 songs for Baritone and Piano, Op. 41
Composer(s): Robert Owens
Song(s): The Lynching, If We Must Die, To the White Fiends
Voice Type: BaritoneBuy via Classical Vocal Reprints