Thrust into the national spotlight in Birmingham, Ala., where he was arrested and jailed, Martin Luther King organized a massive march on Washington, D.C., on August 28, 1963. On the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, he evoked the name of Abraham Lincoln in his "I Have a Dream" speech, which is credited with mobilizing supporters of desegregation and prompted the 1964 Civil Rights Act. The next year, King was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.

The following is the exact text of the spoken speech, transcribed from recordings.

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as thegreatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we standtoday, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as agreat beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared inthe flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the longnight of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred yearslater, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles ofsegregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, theNegro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean ofmaterial prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing inthe corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. Sowe have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When thearchitects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution andthe Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to whichevery American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes,black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights oflife, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory noteinsofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacredobligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which hascome back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bankof justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient fundsin the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash thischeck — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom andthe security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remindAmerica of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxuryof cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the timeto make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the darkand desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now isthe time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to thesolid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all ofGod's children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. Thissweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass untilthere is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-threeis not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blowoff steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nationreturns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility inAmerica until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds ofrevolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the brightday of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warmthreshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining ourrightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek tosatisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness andhatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity anddiscipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physicalviolence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meetingphysical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfedthe Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, formany of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, havecome to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have cometo realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannotwalk alone.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. Wecannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights,"When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro isthe victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never besatisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gainlodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannotbe satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto toa larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped oftheir selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only".We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and aNegro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are notsatisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like watersand righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials andtribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of youhave come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by thestorms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You havebeen the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith thatunearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, goback to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of ournorthern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties oftoday and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in theAmerican dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the truemeaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all menare created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of formerslaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together atthe table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a statesweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression,will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nationwhere they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content oftheir character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, withits governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition andnullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and blackgirls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls assisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill andmountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and thecrooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall berevealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. Withthis faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone ofhope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of ournation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will beable to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jailtogether, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free oneday.

This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with anew meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from everymountainside, let freedom ring."

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedomring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from themighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Allegheniesof Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From everymountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ringfrom every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we willbe able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and whitemen, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join handsand sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last!thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"