Church Building by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

Uncle Jacob often told us, / Since freedom blessed our race / We ought all to come together / And build a meeting place.

So we pinched, and scraped, and spared, / A little here and there:

Though our wages was but scanty, / The church did get a share.

And, when the house was finished, / Uncle Jacob came to pray; / He was looking mighty feeble, / And his head was awful gray.

But his voice rang like a trumpet; / His eyes looked bright and young; / And it seemed a mighty power / Was resting on his tongue.

And he gave us all his blessing -- / 'Twas parting words he said, / For soon we got the message / The dear old man was dead.

But I believe he's in the kingdom, / For when we shook his hand / He said, "Children, you must meet me / Right in the promised land; / "For when I'm done a moiling / And toiling here below, / Through the gate into the city / Straightway I hope to go. "