James Weldon Johnson Quotes

American writer and activist (1871–1938)

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James Weldon Johnson (June 17, 1871 – June 26, 1938) was a leading American author, critic, journalist, poet, anthropologist, educator, lawyer, songwriter, early civil rights activist, and prominent figure in the Harlem Renaissance. He was also one of the first African-American professors at New York University. Later in life he was a Professor of Creative Literature and Writing at Fisk University.

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Alternative Names: J. W. Johnson

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Find Sister Caroline...
And she's tired—
She's weary—
Go down, Death, and bring her to me.

Lift every voice and sing
Till earth and heaven ring,
Ring with the harmonies of Liberty.
Let our rejoicing rise high as the listening skies;
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.

Young man—Young man—Your arm’s too short to box with God.

The colored people of this country know and understand the white people better than the white people know and understand them.

And Satan smiled, stretched out his hand, and said,—
"O War, of all the scourges of humanity, I crown you chief."

Some men enjoy the constant strife
Of days with work and worry rife,
But that is not my dream of life:
I think such men are crazy.
For me, a life with worries few,
A job of nothing much to do,
Just pelf enough to see me through:
I fear that I am lazy.

And God smiled again,
And the rainbow appeared,
And curled itself around his shoulder.

So God stepped over to the edge of the world
And He spat out the seven seas;
He batted His eyes, and the lightnings flashed;
He clapped His hands, and the thunders rolled;
And the waters above the earth came down,
The cooling waters came down.

And God stepped out on space,
And He looked around and said,
"I'm lonely—
I'll make me a world."

Whose starward eye
Saw chariot “swing low”? And who was he
That breathed that comforting, melodic sigh,
“Nobody knows de trouble I see”?

We have come over a way that with tears has been watered,
We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered.

How would you have us, as we are?
Or sinking 'neath the load we bear?
Our eyes fixed forward on a star?
Or gazing empty at despair?

I am a thing not new, I am as old
As human nature. I am that which lurks,
Ready to spring whenever a bar is loosed;
The ancient trait which fights incessantly
Against restraint, balks at the upward climb;
The weight forever seeking to obey
The law of downward pull;—and I am more:
The bitter fruit am I of planted seed;
The resultant, the inevitable end
Of evil forces and the powers of wrong.

The glory of the day was in her face,
The beauty of the night was in her eyes.

Every race and every nation should be judged by the best it has been able to produce, not by the worst.