Explore "Howard at Atlanta" by John Greenleaf Whittier on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
RIGHT in the track where Sherman Ploughed his red furrow, Out of the narrow cabin, Up from the cellar's burrow, Gathered the little black people, With freedom newly dowered, Where, beside their Northern teacher, Stood the soldier, Howard.
He listened and heard the children Of the poor and long-enslaved Reading the words of Jesus, Singing the songs of David. Behold! -- the dumb lips speaking, The blind eyes seeing! Bones of the Prophet's vision Warmed into being!