ARK as the clouds of even,

Ranked in the western heaven,

Waiting the breath that lifts

All the dread mass, and drifts

Tempest and falling brand

Over a ruined land;—

So still and orderly,

Arm to arm, knee to knee,

Waiting the great event

Stands the black regiment.

Down the long dusky line

Teeth gleam and eye-balls shine,

And the bright bayonet,

Bristling, and firmly set,

Flashed with a purpose grand,

Long, ere the sharp command

Of the fierce rolling drum

Told them their time had come,

Told them what work was sent

For the black regiment.

"Now," the flag-sergeant cried,

"Though death and hell betide,

"Charge!" trump and drum awoke,

Onward the bondmen broke:

Bayonet and sabre stroke

Vainly opposed their rush.

Through the wild battle's crush,

With but one thought aflush,

Driving their lords like chaff,

In the guns' mouths they laugh;

Or at the slippery brands

Leaping with open hands,

Down they tear man and horse,

Down in their awful course;

Trampling with bloody heel

Over the crashing steel,

All their eyes forward bent,

Rushed the black regiment.

"Freedom!" their battle-cry,—

"Freedom! or learn to die!"

Ah! and they meant the word,

Not as with us 'tis heard,

Not a mere party shout:

They gave their spirits out;

Trusted the end to God,

And on the glory sod

Rolled in triumphant blood.

Glad to strike one free blow,

Whether for weal or woe;

Glad to breathe one free breath,

Though on the lips of death,

Hundreds on hundreds fell;

But they are resting well;

Scourges and shackles strong

Never shall do them wrong.

O, to the living few,

Soldiers, be just and true!

Hail them as comrades tried;

Fight with them side by side;

Never in field or tent,

Scorn the black regiment.