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STEPPING BACK
By
JOSEPH G. 'BRYANT
A. M. E. BOOK CONCERN
Jfrtntrrn & ^ubliatirra
631 Pine Street
Philadelphia. Pennsylvania. Ill
% ■ . M
STEPPING BACK
By
JOSEPH G. "BRYANT
A M. E. BOOK CONCERN
ibtatrrs & Jlnbtislttt's
431 Pine Street
rtstarleipliia Pennsylvania.
Jnlntiuffimt
Bishop Johnson's need of money to complete
the payment for Bethel Institute is urgent.
The great necessity for educational work in
our foreign missionary field, I am sure, appeals
to every African Methodist. I lived for some
years in Africa and know, somewhat, of its
needs and condition.
In presenting this poem to the public, the
writer wishes to state that it has been written
expressly to help this feature of missionary
work. After deducting the expenses the en¬
tire proceeds from the sale of this booklet will
be forwarded to Bishop Johnson for Bethel In¬
stitute, Capetown, South Africa.
JOSEPH G. BRYANT.
RT. REV. J, ALBERT JOHNSON
Presiding Bishop of the J 4th District
Stepping lark
When all the trees were clothed in green,
And songsters of the feathered kind
Had reared their young and cloudy days
Of mist and rain had slowly gone,
And flowers sweet perfumed the fields,
A stranger came from distant land;
Who bet that he could drink palm wine;
And he who would not with him drink,
Was boy child of a boy and girl.
There lived a man in Groda's town,
Who sober all his life had been;
One wife he had and children four.
No pagan man was better born,
No pagan man had better been,
No pagan father better was:
His children and his faithful wife,
REV. JOSEPH G. BRYANT
Pastor A. M. E, Church
E'kton, Md.
7
He loved as did his very self.
He sftatched the challenge up and' said :
"I'll bet the man who brings this bet,
That I can drink this stranger drunk;
I'll bet my wife and children four,
As sure sun which rolls yon sky."
His wife saw, in the stranger'^ eye,
With evil marks a cunning plan;
Therefore with sighs, begs him desist,
And let the artful stranger go.
But over-reaching confidence
Seized him, with emphasis declared:
"This man, indeed, has pawned himself,
My slave shall be, persuade me not *
I'll buy old wine and drink and talk,
Until the wine has made him drunk."
The oldest of its kind procured,
Which rather madden than made drunk.
His ebon cheeks took ashen hue,,
8
His eyes turned red, in anger fell
His words, excited, loud his voice;
With tongue and gesture, he declared:
"The earth has turned as blue as sky."
And lo ! the saucy dancing sun,
Which heats the sand that burns my feet,
Has changed the day to darkest night.
Lo! trees are upside down, and flees
The hills in somersaults/" He fought
Imaginary man; he kicks
And cuffs, and knocks him down, then pins
To earth, the gazing crowd laughed long.
The stranger cool and sober sat;
Beneath deep wonder hid his name;
Most strange, no boast escaped his lips,
Or smiles lit up his face, and yet,
He was not angry made, or seemed
He sad. Still streams run deep, so were
His motives hid. Like wastes the moon,
9
The wine between the two decreased.
At last, this goodly man lay stretched
Upon the ground, in drunken sleep;
The stranger bagged the game; and O,
The mother's wail and offspring's cry!
The bet made wife and children slaves.
A kinder woman never was,
An earnest gentle woman she;
As amiable as Christian reared;
A model mother, faithful wife;
The greatest joy that swelled her heart,
The kindness done her children four.
The Arab hardened by slave cries,
No pity showed; said he: "The bet
Was fairly made, and fairly won,
My proof lies there upon the ground;
That man is drunk as drunk can be,
And I am sober as you see,
His wife and children therefore mine."
10
Responded tall and swarthy chief:
"I'll ransom with the captive bands
Of wives and children took in war/'
The artful Arab made reply:
"Altho' a handsome ransom give,
Exchange will I not children these,
Or twice two wives for her receive."
Both time and sleep supplied the balm,
Which sobered him that palm wine ruined.
All bruised and sore, he homeward went,
But lo! the little hut, now linked
With pleasant pass, stood mute; he looks,
No children play around the door,
He calls in accents sweet, no wife
Responds or children greet. To Guy
He says: "Tell why this change? then Guy:
"Misfortune ties my tongue ; why should
I be the first to break bad news ?
Look up, inquire of eyes of night;
11
When shameless brow you wore, they saw
And dimmed their light! Your wife, now is,
In grief, yoked with your children, in
Slave band. Shame died, stabbed by the man
Who sold his kin; sold! No exchanged
For hasty drinks of strong palm wine."
With sadness on his face, he said:
"No longer tantalize and keep
In great suspense, inform me now.
For trouble sits upon my mind;
My wife and picaninnies where?"
Thus he; "Does rule you yet palm wine!
Where are your ears, can you not hear?
Now hold your ears and catch these words.
In fit, which all your wisdom took,.
You bet and drank your wife away,
Together with your children all;
Who could dissuade you? None, she tried.
They all were sold to big ship which
12
At Tinbo lay. I followed them,
She gave her parting message there;
With shake of hand she crying said:
"Tell Farh good-bye, he's sober now;
His life and mine like parting streams;
The sun looks on him free, born free.
On me free born, but now a slave,
By palm wine made. My native land
No more shall see; its clear blue sky,
And father of my children four;
Ye palmy groves and pretty hills,
And dales, shall greet my eyes no more;
Farewell sweet home and happiness."
"Like swift wing bird of sea, that ship
Flew o'er the water with much ease ;
I watched her till she died from sight.
Alas, O, what a wretch you are!"
This stroke of great misfortune, broke
The noble spirit of the man,
13
For hope left him in rank despair.
Sweet laughter of the merry crowd,
And lively women full of fun,
No balm could give, but rather sent
Affliction's bitter root deep in.
When fades the sun, and evening shades
With breezes come, apparent sounds
Of merry laughter, as from wife,
Moved often him. Alas! in vain
Aroused to be deceived; grief, grows,
And greater hatred of palm wine.
Night sorrow brought, with day came grief ;
At length, the bustling, noisy town,
With its barbaric sinful fun,
Reminder of his sad mistake,
Resolves he to forsake and dwell
In jungles, where no human kind
Intrudes; by sylvan brook, which runs
Its ancient race, and where the birds
14
Of pretty plumage warble praise;
Where frisky monkeys and baboons,
Enjoy the freedom of their homes;
And fleety deer their thirst oft quench;
Tke elephant, his huge form brings
And cools himself in middle stream.
But solitude no comfort brings;
The gentle zephyr in the trees,
The mumbling water in the brook,
The tuneful birds in plumage gay,
Remind him of dear absent friends.
This quiet, silent place, where gaze
The animals in forest wild,
And birds not 'fraid to fly from him,
Who them no harm has done, he left
To live among the Christian folks.
An inward feeling led him there;
He felt, he knew not why, somehow,
His wife would see again. Each day,
He watched the sea for her return.
15
i hat s"hip, -with human freight, her prow
Crass oceaaa turned, all proudly rode
The seas, and with its human freight,
Then hastening to the Antilles,
Was captured, on high seas, her freight
Of slaves set free in Africa,
Republic of Liberia.
When tide was strongest 'gainst this man,
And drowned the hope of happiness,
One cloudless day, his hopes revived;
For joy again smiled on the man,
He meets his wife all neatly dressed,
In beauty's glare. They hugged and kissed,
And kissed and hugged, and laughed and wept,
Until their eyes were dimmed with tears.
He stared at her and then inquired:
"Good wife can this be you? Are sure?
I know it's I, whom you now see,
Palm wine and Arab, too, have fooled
16
But not in this. See scar across
My head from boyhood had; it seems
From dead you rose, for Christians say,
All dead will rise." "Our children where?"
Then answered she with sobs of grief,
"One died at sea, when four days out,
And overboard Deminta fell,
The day we reached this goodly place;
Dutre and Peh are here with me,
All safe and sound and joyous good."
A happy family once again ;
"They sought new avenues of peace—
The Christian Church and Sunday School,
And lived as temperance pledge demands.