“The old doctrine that submission is the best cure for outrage and wrong, does not hold good on the slave plantation.”
In this land of the free
To Justice being quit
As with impunity.
The monied forces may
Subvert the Court at will,
But I will never say
That they do well, but ill.
“If we must die” or if
Must be reduced to serve,
Yet I will not comply
And will not lose my nerve—
Although they try to take
My rights—to pile their cash—
Let not my spirit break,
Let me resist the lash.
They are such men as have
No love for any man,
To profit ever slave,
In league with Satan’s spawn.
What “Justice of the Peace”
Is by a sham installed?
Justice is no caprice,
Let theft by “theft” be called.
Oh, Mr Gorsuch, you
Have no right to that place,
So beat me black and blue,
I’ll spit it to your face.
Nor I’ll submit to stripes
Without that you must look,
And listen to my gripes
About the seat you took.