Ballad of Booker T.

Booker T.
Was a practical man.
He said, Till the soil
And learn from the land.
Let down your bucket
Where you are.
Your fate is here,
Not afar.
To help yourself
And your fellow man,
Train your head,
Your heart, and your hand.
For smartness alone
Is surely not meet—
If you haven’t
At the same time
Got something to eat.
At Tuskegee
He built a school
With book-learning there
Plus the workman’s tool.
He started out
In a simple way—
For yesterday
Was not today.
Sometimes he had
Compromise in his talk—
A man must crawl
Before he can walk:
In Alabama in ’85
To be alive.
But Booker T.
Was nobody’s fool:
A Negro was lucky
You may carve a dream
With a humble tool.
The tallest tower
Can tumble down
If it is not rooted
In solid ground.
So, being a far-seeing
Practical man,
He said, Train your head,
Your heart, and your hand.
Your fate is here,
Not afar,
Let down your bucket
Where you are.