Runs falls rises stumbles on from darkness into darkness
                        and the darkness thicketed with shapes of terror
                        and the hunters pursuing and the hounds pursuing
                        and the night cold and the night long and the river
                        to cross and the jack-muh-lanterns beckoning beckoning
                        and blackness ahead and when shall I reach that somewhere
                        morning and keep on going and never turn back and keep on going

                                 Runagate
                                         Runagate
                                                 Runagate

                        Many thousands rise and go
                        many thousands crossing over
                                                         0 mythic North
                                                   0 star-shaped yonder Bible city

                        Some go weeping and some rejoicing
                        some in coffins and some in carriages
                        some in silks and some in shackles

                                    Rise and go or fare you well

                        No more auction block for me
                        no more driver's lash for me

                            If you see my Pompey, 30 yrs of age,
                            new breeches, plain stockings, negro shoes;
                            if you see my Anna, likely young mulatto
                            branded E on the right cheek, R on the left,
                            catch them if you can and notify subscriber.
                            Catch them if you can, but it won't be easy.
                            They'll dart underground when you try to catch them,
                            plunge into quicksand, whirlpools, mazes,
                            torn into scorpions when you try to catch them.

                        And before I'll be a slave
                        I'll be buried in my grave

                             North star and bonanza gold
                             I'm bound for the freedom, freedom-bound
                             and oh Susyanna don't you cry for me

                                           Runagate

                                                   Runagate
 

                        II.

                        Rises from their anguish and their power,

                                                   Harriet Tubman,

                                                   woman of earth, whipscarred,
                                                   a summoning, a shining

                                                   Mean to be free

                              And this was the way of it, brethren brethren,
                              way we journeyed from Can't to Can.
                              Moon so bright and no place to hide,
                              the cry up and the patterollers riding,
                              hound dogs belling in bladed air.
                              And fear starts a-murbling, Never make it,
                              we'll never make it. Hush that now,
                              and she's turned upon us, levelled pistol
                              glinting in the moonlight:
                              Dead folks can't jaybird-talk, she says;
                              you keep on going now or die, she says.

                        Wanted   Harriet Tubman   alias The General
                        alias Moses   Stealer of Slaves

                        In league with Garrison   Alcott   Emerson
                        Garrett   Douglass   Thoreau   John Brown
                        Armed and known to be Dangerous

                        Wanted   Reward   Dead or Alive

                              Tell me, Ezekiel, oh tell me do you see
                              mailed Jehovah coming to deliver me?

                        Hoot-owl calling in the ghosted air,
                        five times calling to the hants in the air.
                        Shadow of a face in the scary leaves,
                        shadow of a voice in the talking leaves:

                             Come ride-a my train

                             Oh that train, ghost-story train
                             through swamp and savanna movering movering,
                             over trestles of dew, through caves of the wish,
                             Midnight Special on a sabre track movering movering,
                             first stop Mercy and the last Hallelujah.

                             Come ride-a my train

                                 Mean mean mean to be free.