While he played the murderous "Moor"
Had "The Emperor Jones" lines to deliver
Played a singing stevedore
Or the role of "Sanders Of The River"
Paul Robeson found work to do
On the screen and stage
Concert appearances, too
He was all the rage
Yet up at the pinnacle
Where he found himself frequently working
He discovered cynical
Forces of racism were there lurking
He saw that the time was ripe
For his strong black face
Only if their stereotype
Determined its place
But as he felt himself grow
From discoveries, he made as he traveled
To new places where he'd go
His white audiences become baffled
More and more he lends his name
To black people's cause
And the more black he became
The less white applause
He said: "artists have the right
"To be slaves or to fight to be free"
As he joined the freedom fight
No alternative to that did he see
Struggling with all his might
By both word and deed
Confident he saw the light
Robeson took the lead
Politically incorrect
In the land of which he is a native
Robeson now sees himself checked
By those who find him far too persuasive
His passport is snatched away
Into exile hurled
Confined to the U.S.A.
He's denied the world
Now, enemies have him destroyed
Gradually engagements diminish
He finds himself unemployed
Until his career comes to a finish
Without audience and wealth
Robeson after a while
Aging and in failing health
Accepts his exile
He who'd done so much to stir
A great battle for black liberation
Found that when it did occur
He himself was left in isolation
Younger voices that had burst
On the scene were heard
People forgot who'd come first
Bringing the good word
Yet, the courage he displayed
The commitment of his time and talents
Prove to be enormous weighed
Now in history's balance
History that must disclose
As we might well guess
Paul Robeson was among those
Trapped in righteousness
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