 | The Emancipation Car |  |
SOBER REFLECTIONS.
When the sun goes down, and the rosy light
'Gins to fade over the western hills;
Then the slave returns to a dreary night,
While deep sorrow his bosom fills.
O, Freedom! Sweet Freedom!
Hear his mid-night cry;
I would give this world,
Could I once be free;
But a slave I must live and die.
'Gins to fade over the western hills;
Then the slave returns to a dreary night,
While deep sorrow his bosom fills.
O, Freedom! Sweet Freedom!
Hear his mid-night cry;
I would give this world,
Could I once be free;
But a slave I must live and die.
I must now lie down on my cabin floor,
There to rest my weary bones,
With not e'en a mantle to spread me o'er,
And my pillow a cold rough stone.
O, Freedom! Sweet Freedom!
How I weep for thee;
I must now lie down
On the cold, damp ground,
But there's no repose for me.
There to rest my weary bones,
With not e'en a mantle to spread me o'er,
And my pillow a cold rough stone.
O, Freedom! Sweet Freedom!
How I weep for thee;
I must now lie down
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But there's no repose for me.
My wife and children have all been sold,
And their faces no more I'll see;
The Auctioneer, for the shining gold,
Sold them down to old Tennessee.
O, Freedom! Sweet Freedom!
How thine echoes swell—
For thee I pray,
Both night and day,
My deep sorrow no tongue can tell.
And their faces no more I'll see;
The Auctioneer, for the shining gold,
Sold them down to old Tennessee.
O, Freedom! Sweet Freedom!
How thine echoes swell—
For thee I pray,
Both night and day,
My deep sorrow no tongue can tell.
They can find no crime that I've ever done,
That I thus am bound in chains;
For to have my daughters, wife and sons,
Borne away to the southern plains.
O, Freedom! Sweet Freedom!
How I long for thee;
I would give this world,
Was it all my own,
If the bondmen could all go free.
That I thus am bound in chains;
For to have my daughters, wife and sons,
Borne away to the southern plains.
O, Freedom! Sweet Freedom!
How I long for thee;
I would give this world,
Was it all my own,
If the bondmen could all go free.
See the eagle poised on his golden wings,
'Mid the thirteen darling Stars;
How he soars on high, and so sweetly sings
Of the joys that we all ought to share,
Sweet Freedom! O, Freedom!
Sweet Freedom dear;
While the white man sings
'Neath thy balmy wings,
I must die here in deep despair.
'Mid the thirteen darling Stars;
How he soars on high, and so sweetly sings
Of the joys that we all ought to share,
Sweet Freedom! O, Freedom!
Sweet Freedom dear;
While the white man sings
'Neath thy balmy wings,
I must die here in deep despair.
| The Emancipation Car | |