Welborn Victor Jenkins; Atlanta Independent, June 19, 1909

(Written by a trainman in appreciation of the boys who fired the trains on the Georgia road.)

1.
 No muse will sing of our deeds of nerve,
    No plaudits for us when our course is won;
 For we are naught but the dogs who serve,
    And silence must keep when the struggle is done.
 Yet we know best of all that our hearts are right,
    So we bend to our task till the saf'ty pops, "ziz."
 We fire our engines with all our might,
    But we're up in front where the danger is.2.
 Thru' the mark and the gloom of the uncertain night,
    We steam with the speed of the wind on our way,
 Till the "mist of the dawn" and the dubious light
    Give place to the dread and the clouds of the day.
 Tho' we ride to our death and Eternity vast,
    We'll "hustle" the coal toll the steam gauge "is riz"
 To a hundred and ninety and two hundred past,
    'Cause we're up in front, where the danger is.

3.
 Thru towns we go hurtling, o'er rivers and plains,
    Thru places where rancor and prejudice reigns,
 With the iron steed eating the distance he gains,
    And spewing his life from his red, scorching veins.
 Ah! To fire an engine is dangerous work,
    Careering and plunging and screaming. Gee whiz!
 What tragedy under the drivers may lurk
    Away up in front where the danger is.

4.
 We came to this land from our African home,
    To hew down the forests and level the fields,
 The red man might wander and idle and roam,
    But ours was toil with the pain that it yields.
 Our path has been hard and our joys have been few.
    Our fate was the lot of the serf, and to his
 Misfortune we bent. 'Twas the best we could do.
    We were up in front, where the danger is.

5.
 Our masters must say that we ever obeyed,
    Thru long years of bondage and faith ever kept,
 Even when on their shoulders the war burden weighed.
    And in distant armies of battle they slept,
 Tho' since we are freedmen they seem to forget.
    We cared for their children and homes when they fought,
 We'll serve and obey them and cherish them yet,
    Tho' we're up in front where our life is naught.

6.
 O God, in your mercy remember us boys,
    Who fired these trains at the risk of our life,
 Midst the clankering steel and the heart-rending noise,
    Thru towns where the mutt'rings of anger were rife.
 And pity us more that we can not but choose
    The things and the places whiel [sic] others refuse.
 But whether we profit or whether we lose,
    We're up in front where the danger is.
    Away up in front where the danger is.

7.
 Nor is it for us to combine and rebel.
    Let other men muster the forces to fight.
 Our better defense is the work we do well,
    For the God of the heaven and earth will do right.
 We are soldiers who reap neither honor nor gain,
    From the battles we wage without question or quiz.
 Our only reward, tho' our labor is vain,
    Is being in front where the danger is,
    Away up in front w here the danger is.

[This poem appears in two categories: "Hope and Accomplishment" and "Injustices and Barriers."]