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Paul Laurence Dunbar - When dey `Listed Colored Soldiers
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Dey was talkin` in de cabin, dey was talkin` in de hall;
But I listened kin` o` keerless, not a-t`inkin` `bout it all;
An` on Sunday, too, I noticed, dey was whisp` rin` mighty much
Stan`in` all erroun` de roadside w`en dey let us out o` chu`ch.
But I did n`t t`ink erbout it `twell de middle of de week,
An` my `Lias come to see me, an` somehow he could n`t speak.
Den I seed all in a minute whut he`d come to see me for; —
Dey had `listed colo`ed sojers an` my `Lias gwine to wah.

Oh, I hugged him, an` I kissed him, an` I baiged him not to go;
But he tol` me dat his conscience, hit was callin` to him so,
An` he could n`t baih to lingah w`en he had a chanst to fight
For de freedom dey had gin him an` de glory of de right.
So he kissed me, an` he lef` me, w`en I`d p`omised to be true;
An` dey put a knapsack on him, an` a coat all colo`ed blue.
So I gin him pap`s ol` Bible f`om de bottom of de draw`, —
W`en dey `listed colo`ed sojers an` my `Lias went to wah.

But I t`ought of all de weary miles dat he would have to tramp,
An` I could n`t be contented w`en dey tuk him to de camp.
W`y my hea`t nigh broke wid grievin` `twell I seed him on de street;
Den I felt lak I could go an` th`ow my body at his feet.
For his buttons was a-shinin`, an` his face was shinin`, too,
An` he looked so strong an` mighty in his coat o` sojer blue,
Dat I hollahed, "Step up, manny," dough my th`oat was so` an` raw, —
W`en dey `listed colo`ed sojers an` my `Lias went to wah.

Ol` Mis` cried w`en mastah lef` huh, young Miss mou`ned huh brothah Ned,
An` I did n`t know dey feelin`s is de ve`y wo`ds dey said
W`en I tol` `em I was so`y. Dey had done gin up dey all;
But dey only seemed mo` proudah dat dey men had hyeahed de call.
Bofe my mastahs went in gray suits, an` I loved de Yankee blue,
But I t`ought dat I could sorrer for de losin` of `em too;
But I could n`t, for I did n`t know de ha`f o` whut I saw,
`Twell dey `listed colo`ed sojers an` my `Lias went to wah.

Mastah Jack come home all sickly; he was broke for life, dey said;
An` dey lef` my po` young mastah some`r`s on de roadside, — dead.
W`en de women cried an` mou`ned `em, I could feel it thoo an` thoo,
For I had a loved un fightin` in de way o` dangah, too.
Den dey tol` me dey had laid him some`r`s way down souf to res`,
Wid de flag dat he had fit for shinin` daih acrost his breas`.
Well, I cried, but den I reckon dat `s whut Gawd had called him for,
W`en dey `listed colo`ed sojers an` my `Lias went to wah.
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