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Black Soldier's Lament.

 The bugle called and forth we went To serve the crown our backs
far bent, And build what ere that must be done; But ne're to fire
an angry gun No heroes we nay not one.
 With deep lament we did our job Despite the shame our manhood robbed.
We built and fixed and fixed again, To prove our worth as proud Black
men And hasten sure the Kaiser's end.
From Scotia port to Seaford Square Across to France the conflict there,
At Ville La Joux and Place Peronne-- The number two six hundred strong.
Stripped to the waist and sweated chest Mid-day reprieve much needed
rest, We dug and hauled and lifted high From trenches deep toward the
sky-- Non-fighting troops and yet we die.
The peace restored, the battle won Black sweat and toil had beaten the
Hun. Black blood was spilled, Black bodies maimed For medals brave no
Black was named, Yet proud were we, our pride unashamed.
But time will bring other wars, Then give to us more daring chores That
we might prove our courage strong Preserve the right, repel the wrong
And proud we'll sing the battle song. 
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Author:Borden, George
Article Type:Poem
Geographic Code:1CANA
Date:Mar 22, 2017
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