A UNION SOLDIER AWAITS BATTLE

Once,
I sang at the edge of a field
Beside an oaken tub, upturned,
To steal the sound from my
Master's ear.

Once,
Beneath the stroke of hickory or hide,
I howled a dreadful arpeggio
And sipped a bitter soup of rich
Tongue blood and tears.

Then,
On a blue midnight,
Someone called 'Jesus comin , Jesus comin through'.

So,
I put my feet on freedom's track
And ran with the shadows far beyond
The reach of horse and hound and men;

Beyond Mississippi hissing like a snake;
Beyond those slathering jaws of hate.

Swiftly,
Across ploughed field and star-fired meadow, moon-silvered stream and
Sucking swamp , I followed my
Redeemer northwards.
To the circled campfires of promise;

To where the better angels sang.

Now ,
I carry a flag of midnight stars and
Bloody stripes that frets in the morning Breeze.
Now I wait for the bugle song with the
Patience of long centuries.