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The Color Sergeant Post by :troloff Category :Poems Author :James Weldon Johnson Date :October 2011 Read :1558

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The Color Sergeant

(On an Incident at the Battle of San Juan Hill)

Under a burning tropic sun,
With comrades around him lying,
A trooper of the sable Tenth
Lay wounded, bleeding, dying.

First in the charge up the fort-crowned hill,
His company's guidon bearing,
He had rushed where the leaden hail fell fast,
Not death nor danger fearing.

He fell in the front where the fight grew fierce,
Still faithful in life's last labor;
Black though his skin, yet his heart as true
As the steel of his blood-stained saber.

And while the battle around him rolled,
Like the roar of a sullen breaker,
He closed his eyes on the bloody scene,
And presented arms to his Maker.

There he lay, without honor or rank,
But, still, in a grim-like beauty;
Despised of men for his humble race,
Yet true, in death, to his duty.

(The end)
James Weldon Johnson's poem: Color Sergeant

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The Black Mammy The Black Mammy

The Black Mammy
O whitened head entwined in turban gay, O kind black face, O crude, but tender hand, O foster-mother in whose arms there lay The race whose sons are masters of the land! It was thine arms that sheltered in their fold, It was thine eyes that followed through the length Of infant days these sons. In times of old It was thy breast that nourished them to strength. So often hast thou to thy bosom pressed

To Horace Bumstead To Horace Bumstead

To Horace Bumstead
Have you been sore discouraged in the fight, And even sometimes weighted by the thought That those with whom and those for whom you fought Lagged far behind, or dared but faintly smite? And that the opposing forces in their might Of blind inertia rendered as for naught All that throughout the long years had been wrought, And powerless each blow for Truth and Right? If so, take new