Stony the road we trod, Bitter the chastening rod, 
Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;
Yet with a steady beat, Have not our weary feet 
Come to the place for which our fathers sighed? 
We have come over a way that with tears has been watered
We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered
Out from the gloomy past, till now we stand at last
Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast
James Weldon Johnson, J. Rosamond Johnson
(1900 as a poem, then a song with music)