Not For Myself I Make This Prayer,

For We Must Be One Thing Or The Other, An Asset Or A Liability, The Sinew In Your Wing To Help You Soar, Or The Chain To Bind You To Earth.

We Shall Not Always Plant While Others Reap

I Was Reared In The Conservative Atmosphere Of A Methodist Parsonage.

Ever At Thy Glowing Altar Must My Heart Grow Sick And Falter, Wishing He I Served Were Black.

[w]e Have Always Resented The Natural Inclination Of Most White People To Demand Spirituals The Moment It Is Known That A Negro Is About To Sing. So Often The Request Has Seemed To Savor Of The Feeling That We Could Do This And This Alone.