(This is the story of what happens to a pretty Aryan girl when she
sinks to the lowest depths of degradation)
When a white girl marries a negro, her sun of life
goes down.
And glaring spots of sin appear on her white wedding
gown.
And White and black men stand aghast, while viewing
this strange role:
And mutter, "they will wreck themselves, and damn
each other's soul.
We know a carnivorous bug has crept into her brain.
And gnawed away her self-respect, which left her half
insane.
Now all her racial pride has flown beyond redemption's
fold.
And she begins life's saddest tale that ever yet was
told.
Three days and nights she felt black lips press smug
against her own.
And on the fourth, her troubled soul, let out a frightful
groan.
And so the weeks and months flew by, and then a baby
came;
She looked at it with tear filled eyes, and hung her
head with shame.
And then she dreamed of other days, sweet girlhood
days gone by,
And of the White friends left behind, and so we hear
her cry;
"O, could I turn life's pendulum backwards a few short
years.
I would not bear this cross today, nor shed these
bitter tears."
"My baby would be White as snow, and sleep upon my
breast.
Like a little fledgling robin that slumbers in its
nest.
While now, O God, my mongrel child just, whimpers
through the night.
Till in my sleepless dreams I scream, not White, O
God, not White!"
And so I stagger through my days far from God's love
and grace,
Till now, I know, no black man lives, can take a white
man's place.
My offsprings shall be mongrel bred, their hue-skin
shall remain,
For even God with all his power, cannot remove the
stain.
I sold my birthright for a mess, I mixed my White-born
blood
With black blood, so I languish here like one bogged
down in mud.
Though God may grant a pardon, I never can retrace
My footsteps down life's narrow road, back to the
White man's race.
So now I groan, "It might have been," had racial pride
been mine.
Today I'd hug a pure White child, and call him half
divine
I'd lift him up before the world, and praise his father's
name,
While now, my baby's mongrel face, reminds me of my
shame.
All other crimes may be forgiven when prayer its power
fulfills;
The scheming crook may find new hope, and even the
man that kills,
but all my prayers can never clear my baby's mongrel
skin,
Nor make him White as driven snow, nor cleanse my
soul of sin.
I was my father's future hope, my mother's joy and
pride
But I got lost on life's dark road, and there my spirit
died.
I smeared my all-White heritage and left the White
man's track,
Now my descendants for all time shall be forever black
I try to hide from all the stars, the moon and the
setting sun;
For all mankind of my White race, condemn what I have
done;
I tremble and my teardrops flow, I pray, but pray
in vain;
For nevermore shall I be one with my White race again.
And so dark clouds above me roll, deep waters crash
below,
I sink, and reap what I have sown, and drink my cup
of woe.
My mother sleeps deep in her grave, my dad lies at
her side,
For both were crushed when I became a negro's common
bride.
Now, should I decide to leave him, where could I choose
to go?
My misspent life will follow me like footprints in
the snow.
Before me lie dark jungles where paramours seek prey:
Behind me death keeps whispering, "I am the only way."
This black and White, prenuptial mess, this racial
suicide;
Must be forbidden by the law, men must find racial
pride!
The, never again, forever, shall tales like mine unfold,
With all its shame, the saddest tale, that ever yet
was told.
- Hon. Oliver Allstorm