Black were the men, Hard-haired and silent-slow, Moving as shadows, Bending with face of fear to earthward; And women there were none. "Woman, woman, woman!" I cried in mounting terror. "Woman and Child!" And the cry sang back Through heaven, with the Whirring of almighty wings. Wings, wings, endless wings,-- Heaven and earth are wings; Wings that flutter, furl, and fold, Always folding and unfolding, Ever folding yet again; Wings, veiling some vast And veiled face, In blazing blackness, Behind the folding and unfolding, The rolling and unrolling of Almighty wings! I saw the black men huddle, Fumed in fear, falling face downward; Vainly I clutched and clawed, Dumbly they cringed and cowered, Moaning in mournful monotone: O Freedom, O Freedom, O Freedom over me; Before I'll be a slave, I'll be buried in my grave, And go home to my God, And be free. It was angel-music From the dead, And ever, as they sang, Some winged thing of wings, filling all heaven, Folding and unfolding, and folding yet again, Tore out their blood and entrails, 'Til I screamed in utter terror; And a silence came-- A silence and the wailing of a babe. Then, at last, I saw and shamed; I knew how these dumb, dark, and dusky things Had given blood and life, To fend the caves of underground, The great black caves of utter night, Where earth lay full of mothers And their babes. Little children sobbing in darkness, Little children crying in silent pain, Little mothers rocking and groping and struggling, Digging and delving and groveling, Amid the dying-dead and dead-in-life And drip and dripping of warm, wet blood, Far, far beneath the wings,-- The folding and unfolding of almighty wings. I bent with tears and pitying hands, Above these dusky star-eyed children,-- Crinkly-haired, with sweet-sad baby voices, Pleading low for light and love and living-- And I crooned: "Little children weeping there, God shall find your faces fair; Guerdon for your deep distress, He shall send His tenderness; For the tripping of your feet Make a mystic music sweet In the darkness of your hair; Light and laughter in the air-- Little children weeping there, God shall find your faces fair!" I strode above the stricken, bleeding men, The rampart 'ranged against the skies, And shouted: "Up, I say, build and slay; Fight face foremost, force a way, Unloose, unfetter, and unbind; Be men and free!" Dumbly they shrank, Muttering they pointed toward that peak, Than vastness vaster, Whereon a darkness brooded, "Who shall look and live," they sighed; And I sensed The folding and unfolding of almighty wings.