Who buys my thoughts
Buys not a cup of honey
That sweetens every taste;
He buys the throb,
Of Young Africa's soul,
The soul of treming millions,
Hungry, naked, sick,
Yearning, pleading, waiting.
Who buys my thoughts
Buy not some false pretense
Of oracles and tin gods;
He buys the thoughts
Projected by the mass
Of restless youth who are born
Into deep and clashing culture,
Sorting, questioning, watching.
Who buys my thoughts
Buys the spirit of the age,
The unquenching fire that smoulder
And smoulders
In every living heart
That's true and Noble or suffering;
It burns all o'er the earth,
Destroying, chastening, cleaning.
