Dr. King: "How Long?"

Dr. King: "How Long?". . , Today I want to tell the city of Selma, today I want to say to the state of Alabama, today I want to say to the people of America and the nations of the world, that we are not about to turn around. , We are on the move now. , Yes, we are on the move and no wave of racism can stop us. We are on the move now. The burning of our churches will not deter us. The bombing of our homes will not dissuade us. We are on the move now. The beating and killing of our clergymen and young people will not divert us. We are on the move now.... , Like an idea whose time has come, not even the marching of mighty armies can halt us. We are moving to the land of freedom. Let us therefore continue our triumphant march to the realization of the American dream.... , The battle is in our hands. And we can answer with creative nonviolence the call to higher ground to which the new directions of our struggle summons us. The road ahead is not altogether a smooth one. There are no broad highways that lead us easily and inevitably to quick solutions. But we must keep going. In the glow of the lamplight on my desk a few nights ago, I gazed again upon the wondrous sign of our times, full of hope and promise of the future. And I smiled to see in the newspaper photographs of many a decade ago, the faces so bright, so solemn, of our valiant heroes, the people of Montgomery. , To this list may be added the names of all those who have fought and, yes, died in the nonviolent army of our day: Medgar Evers, three civil rights workers in Mississippi last summer, William Moore, the Reverend James Reeb, Jimmie Lee Jackson, and four little girls in the church of God in Birmingham on Sunday morning. But in spite of this, we must go on and be sure that they did not die in vain. The pattern of their feet as they walked through Jim Crow barriers in the great stride toward freedom is the thunder of the marching men of Joshua, and the world rocks beneath their tread. , My people, my people, listen. The battle is in our hands... , And so as we go away this afternoon, let us go away more than ever before committed to this struggle and committed to nonviolence. I must admit to you that there are still some difficult days ahead. We are still in for a season of suffering in many of the Black Belt counties of Alabama, many areas of Mississippi, many areas of Louisiana. I must admit to you that there are still jail cells waiting for us, and dark and difficult moments. But if we will go on with the faith that nonviolence and its power can transform dark yesterdays into bright tomorrows, we will be able to change all of these conditions.... , I know you are asking today, "How long will it take?" Somebody's asking, "How long will prejudice blind the visions of men, darken their understanding, and drive bright-eyed wisdom from her sacred throne?" Somebody's asking, "When will wounded justice, lying prostrate on the streets of Selma and Birmingham and communities all over the South, be lifted from this dust of shame to reign supreme among the children of men?" Somebody's asking, "When will the radiant star of hope be plunged against the nocturnal bosom of this lonely night, plucked from weary souls with chains of fear and the manacles of death? How long will justice be crucified, and truth bear it?" , I come to say to you this afternoon, however difficult the moment, however frustrating the hour, it will not be long, because "truth crushed to earth will rise again." How long? Not long, because "no lie can live forever." , How long? Not long, because "you shall reap what you sow." , How long? Not long: , Truth forever on the scaffold, , Wrong forever on the throne, , Yet that scaffold sways the future, , And, behind the dim unknown, , Standeth God within the shadow, , Keeping watch above his own. , How long? Not long, because the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice. , How long? Not long, because: , Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord; He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; , He has loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword; , His truth is marching on. , He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat, , He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat , O, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! Be jubilant my feet! , Our God is marching on. , Glory, hallelujah! Glory, hallelujah! , Glory, hallelujah! Glory, hallelujah! , His truth is marching on. , The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. , March 25, 1965 , Montgomery, Alabama