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Du Bois, W. E. B. (William Edward Burghardt), 1868-1963

"The Souls of Black Folk"

And to the
lonely boy came a new dawn of sympathy and inspiration.
The shadowy, formless thing--the temptation of Hate, that
hovered between him and the world--grew fainter and less
sinister. It did not wholly fade away, but diffused itself and
lingered thick at the edges. Through it the child now first saw
the blue and gold of life,--the sun-swept road that ran 'twixt
heaven and earth until in one far-off wan wavering line they
met and kissed. A vision of life came to the growing boy,
--mystic, wonderful. He raised his head, stretched himself,
breathed deep of the fresh new air. Yonder, behind the
forests, he heard strange sounds; then glinting through the
trees he saw, far, far away, the bronzed hosts of a nation
calling,--calling faintly, calling loudly. He heard the hateful
clank of their chains; he felt them cringe and grovel, and
there rose within him a protest and a prophecy. And he girded
himself to walk down the world.
A voice and vision called him to be a priest,--a seer to
lead the uncalled out of the house of bondage. He saw the
headless host turn toward him like the whirling of mad
waters,--he stretched forth his hands eagerly, and then, even
as he stretched them, suddenly there swept across the vision
the temptation of Despair.


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