John Hope Franklin's Memories of James Weldon Johnson

Let Our Rejoicing Rise

James Weldon Johnson: Why We Sing

James Weldon Johnson,  educator, lawyer, diplomat, songwriter, writer, anthropologist, poet and activist, was born June 17, 1871 in Jacksonville, Florida.  Mr. Johnson is perhaps better known for his contribution as a songwriter [along with his brother, Rosamond Johnson] for what was adopted as the Negro National Anthem Hymn, Lift Evr'y Voice and Sing (1900); however, he was also a major contributor to the Harlem Renaissance as a novelist and poet.  The most popular of his literary contributions includes Autobiography and Ex-Colored Man (1912) and the poetic collection of sermons, God's Trombones (1927).  He also wrote a wonderful autobiography, Along This Way, which chronicles his life and journey as a remarkable human being and a major contributor to what we know today as African American heritage.  He is not often talked about in history class, but he is one of the main reasons that African Americans have a history that can be expressed in song.  Mr. Johnson died on June 26, 1938 when the car he was in struck by a train in Wiscasset, Maine.  He is truly unsung, but not forgotten.  Thank you Mr. James Weldon Johnson.

Sources:  youtube, and thefamouspeople.com

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Barack Obama

44th President of the United States of America

Negro National Anthem: Lift Every Voice

James Weldon Johnson & J. Rosamond Johnson

Written in 1900

Lift every voice and sing
Till earth and heaven ring Ring
with the harmonies of Liberty;
let our rejoicing rise, high as the list'ning skies, let it resound loud as the rolling sea
sing a song
full of faith that the dark past has taught us,
sing a song
full of the hope that the present has brought us;
facing the rising sun of our new day begun, let us march on till victory is won.

Stony the road we trod, bitter the chast'ning rod,
felt in the day that hope unborn had died;
yet with a steady beat, have not our weary feet,
come to the place on witch 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 star is cast.

God of our weary years, God of our silent tears,
thou who has brought us thus far on the way;
thou who has by thy might, led us into the light,
keep us forever in the path, we pray lest our feet stray from the places, our God,
where we met thee, least our hearts, drunk with the wine of the world,
we forget thee, shadowed beneath the hand,
may we forever stand, true to our God, True to our native land.