sity for all to
prepare for "dis bed," filling his discourse with Scripture
illustrations and quotations aptly and with force, using the story of
"Antoninus and Suffirus" as a proof that God would not have any "half
religions"--that if anybody had "hid his Lord's money in de eart' he
must grabble for it before 'twas too late." He read from the service
again, one of the men throwing on earth at the usual place. When they
came to cover up the grave, the men constantly changed hoes with those
who had not handled them before, that each might aid, women and old
men stooping to throw in a handful. Abel made another prayer, they
sang again and dispersed.

It was of this scene that W. C. G. wrote the following
lines:

THE NEGRO BURYING-GROUND.

'Mid the sunny flat of the cotton-field
Lies an acre of forest-tangle still;
A cloister dim, where the grey moss waves
And the live-oaks lock their arms at will.

Here in the shadows the slaves would hide
As they dropped the hoe at death's release,
And leave no sign but a sinking mound
To show where they passed on their way to peace.

This was the Gate--there was none but this--
To a Happy Land where men were men;
And the dusky fugitives, one by one,
Stole in from the bruise of the prison-pen.

When, lo! in the distance boomed the guns,
The bruise was over, and "Massa" had fled!
But _Death_ is the "Massa" that never flees,
And still to the oaks they bore the dead.

'Twas at set of sun; a tattered troop
Of children circled a little grave,
Chanting an anthem rich in its peace
As ever pealed in cathedral-nave,--

The A, B, C, that the lips below
Had learnt with them in the school to shout.
Over and over they sung it slow,
Crooning a mystic meaning out.

A, B, C, D, E, F, G,--
Down solemn alphabets they swept:
The oaks leaned close, the moss swung low,--
What strange new sound among them crept?

The holiest hymn that the children knew!
'Twas dreams come real, and heaven come near;
'Twas light, and liberty, and joy,
And "white-folks' sense,"--and God right here!

Over and over; they dimly felt
_This_ was the charm could make black white,
This was the secret of "Massa's" pride,
And this, unknown, made the negro's night.

What could they sing of braver cheer
To speed on his