W. E. B. Du Bois

My Country ’Tis of Thee
Of course you have faced the dilemma: it is announced, they all smirk and rise. If they are ultra, they remove their hats and look ecstatic; then they look at you. What shall you do? Noblesse oblige; you cannot be boorish, or ungracious; and too, after all it is your country and you do love its ideals if not all of its realities. Now, then, I have thought of a way out: Arise, gracefully remove your hat, and tilt your head. Then sing as follows, powerfully and with deep unction. They’ll hardly note the little changes and their feelings and your conscience will thus be saved: / My country tis of thee, / Late land of slavery,
The Song of the Smoke
I am the Smoke King / I am black! / I am swinging in the sky,
Ghana Calls
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