 | The Emancipation Car |  |
THE VOICE ON THE BREEZE.
Far, far from the South, where the sugar-cane growing,
And rice-swamps are spreading through valleys and plains,
On every dull breeze, which from that region's blowing.
We hear the sad wail of the slave in his chains.
And rice-swamps are spreading through valleys and plains,
On every dull breeze, which from that region's blowing.
We hear the sad wail of the slave in his chains.
Here I am a slave and am destined to labor,
And bear all the burthen and heat of the day—
Get food to sustain both myself and my neighbor,
Let what may befall me, I must not say nay.
And bear all the burthen and heat of the day—
Get food to sustain both myself and my neighbor,
Let what may befall me, I must not say nay.
We're led like the innocent lamb to the slaughter,
Like sheep in the hands of the shearers we're mute;
The white man will sell both our sons and our daughters,
And his sovereign right there's none to dispute'
Like sheep in the hands of the shearers we're mute;
The white man will sell both our sons and our daughters,
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The white man is driving his base legislation,
And putting in force all his impious plans,
Which tend to degrade our poor sable nation,
And why he thus treats us, we dare not demand.
And putting in force all his impious plans,
Which tend to degrade our poor sable nation,
And why he thus treats us, we dare not demand.
The morning is dawning, the day-star is rising,
And Africa's sons are beginning to wake;
Our progress to the white man is now quite surprising,
For God is intending our fetters to break.
And Africa's sons are beginning to wake;
Our progress to the white man is now quite surprising,
For God is intending our fetters to break.
| The Emancipation Car | |