A thousand years of darkness in her face, 
She turns at last from out the centurys' blight 
Of labored moan and dull oppression's might, 
To slowly mount the rugged path and trace 
Her measured step unto her ancient place. 
And upward, ever upward towards the light 
She strains, seeing afar the day when right 
Shall rule the world and justice leaven the race.

Now bare her swarthy arm and firm her sword, 
She stands where Universal Freedom bleeds, 
And slays in holy wrath to save the word 
Of nations and their puny, boasting creeds. 
Sear with the truth, O God, each doubting heart, 
Of mankind's need and Afric's gloried part.