Freedom
Comrades mine and I in the midst, and their memory ever to keep, for the dead I loved so well,
For the sweetest, wisest soul of all my days and lands—and this for his dear sake,
Lilac and star and bird twined with the chant of my soul,
There in the fragrant pines and the cedars dusk and dim.
The Choir and All the People
(Very softly.)
That government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth.
[The light goes again. The crowd goes off. The bier is carried away under cover of the darkness and to the far sound of the negroes who sing the same song which first we heard from them.]
Part Four
“Our Own Day”
[The Chronicler rises in light.]