Dissipating Border

They sang in solemn tunes, Their voices sweet and tender; 'Swing low, sweet chariot, Coming for to carry me home.' They had come a long way to get to that day; Prejudice shook their right hand, While Injustice shook their left. Their faces were firm and set from harsh realities Of their everyday life; And they lifted up their voices and sung. There, the meeting hall carried their last note away, To the highest part of the building forever to stay; And as that last note dissipated, borders dissipated; Borders created by color and pride, Borders created by ignorance and travesty. These were the first Fisk Jubilee Singers; and their song still remains. A strong song it is, A song of hope, a song of perseverance, A song of entreaty, a song of triumph. They sang in solemn tunes, Their voices sweet and tender; 'Swing low, sweet chariot, Coming for to carry me home.'