| |
| RIGHT in the track where Sherman | |
| Ploughed his red furrow, | |
| Out of the narrow cabin, | |
| Up from the cellar’s burrow, | |
| Gathered the little black people, | 5 |
| With freedom newly dowered, | |
| Where, beside their Northern teacher, | |
| Stood the soldier, Howard. | |
| |
| He listened and heard the children | |
| Of the poor and long-enslavëd | 10 |
| Reading the words of Jesus, | |
| Singing the songs of David. | |
| Behold!—the dumb lips speaking, | |
| The blind eyes seeing! | |
| Bones of the Prophet’s vision | 15 |
| Warmed into being! | |
| |
| Transformed he saw them passing | |
| Their new life’s portal! | |
| Almost it seemed the mortal | |
| Put on the immortal. | 20 |
| No more with the beasts of burden, | |
| No more with stone and clod, | |
| But crowned with glory and honor | |
| In the image of God! | |
| |
| There was the human chattel | 25 |
| Its manhood taking; | |
| There, in each dark, bronze statue, | |
| A soul was waking! | |
| The man of many battles, | |
| With tears his eyelids pressing, | 30 |
| Stretched over those dusky foreheads | |
| His one-armed blessing. | |
| |
| And he said: “Who hears can never | |
| Fear for or doubt you; | |
| What shall I tell the children | 35 |
| Up North about you?” | |
| Then ran round a whisper, a murmur, | |
| Some answer devising; | |
| And a little boy stood up: “General, | |
| Tell ’em we ’re rising!” | 40 |
| |
| O black boy of Atlanta! | |
| But half was spoken: | |
| The slave’s chain and the master’s | |
| Alike are broken. | |
| The one curse of the races | 45 |
| Held both in tether: | |
| They are rising,—all are rising, | |
| The black and white together! | |
| |
| O brave men and fair women! | |
| Ill comes of hate and scorning: | 50 |
| Shall the dark faces only | |
| Be turned to morning?— | |
| Make Time your sole avenger, | |
| All-healing, all-redressing; | |
| Meet Fate half-way, and make it | 55 |
A joy and blessing!
1869. | |
| |
