Classic Poem

When Afric's sun was setting fast
The Prophets told the tale,
But Psalmists said she'd win at last
And pass beyond the vale. Chorus:

Come sing the song of Afric's love
The love of God so dear,
The Father great in realms above,
The greatest when so near.

The day has come for us to see
The glory of our name,
The hour of our jubilee
Will crown our greatest fame.

The hand of God is showing how
Our princes shall arrive;
Old Egypt's land is throbbing now
With souls that are alive.

For ages past our sons were slain
On altars far and near,
But all was destined, purging pain
To point the way so fair.

As Israel's people suffered long,
So Afric's host must do,
But ours shall be the joyous song
By hearts most firm and true.

When tides of ocean cease to be,
Our joys will be immense,
For that will be our jubilee
Our faith this day commence.