Big, muscular black men; big Negroes with rhythm in their shoulders; strong, dark prophets of the Lord leaning far out from the warning places; holy fire in their eyes, holy rhythm in their sway, holy words rolling out from their mouths of wisdom; softly now, then louder, getting deep when they roar of the Fiery Furnace; thundering the Lord and his works on Sinai; now softly again, slower, crooning how the Lord was in his good works at little Jerusalem; sobbing how the humbler Lord was broken and crucified by the white...
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