Defeat may serve as well as victory To shake the soul and let the glory out. When the great oak is straining in the wind, The boughs drink in new beauty, and the trunk Sends down a deeper root on the windward side. Only the soul that knows the mighty grief Can know the mighty rapture.
Sorrows come to stretch out spaces in the heart for joy.
Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain seeking a home where he himself is free. But opportunity is real, and life is free, equality is in the air we breathe. I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart, I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars. And finding only the same old stupid plan Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.