Freedom

I’m tired of pain, of woe, of gloom;
I’m tired of clouds that hang with doom;
I’m tired of chaos I’m forced to see —
I long for things that ought to be.

I aspire to planes of light and love;
I aspire to steps that lead above;
I aspire to the winding rocky road —
So when I get there I can drop my load.

If I should stumble in my upward pace,
If I should fumble with some gem of grace,
If I should weaken, stagger, fall —
I’ll lift my ear, listen for a call.

Up from my bondage and my slaver’s chain,
Up from second class my rights to gain,
Up from oppression as on I trod
Forward — on the road to God.