Black Men

Dancing, dancing in the sun
The braves of Maughba go:
Dancing that the God of Rain
His face to them might show.
Singing, singing in the fields
The slaves of Massa go.

Singing that their tired hearts
This small relief might know.
Laughing, laughing in the street
The freedman loudly goes;
Beneath his brazen laughter
Are there tears and pain who knows?