Is it much to die when immortal feet
March with you down Time’s street,
When beyond steel bars sound the deathless drums
Like a mighty heart-beat as they come?
Who fought alone
That mad mob
That tore the Bastile down
Stone by stone.
Fighters for the free.
Lenin with the flag blood red.
Not dead! Not dead!
None of those is dead.
To walk with you —
8 BLACK BOYS IN A SOUTHERN JAIL
WORLD, TURN PALE!
– Scottsboro Limited, Four Poems and a Play in Verse. New York: Golden Stair Press, 1932