 | The Emancipation Car |  |
79
THE SON'S REFLECTIONS.
'Way down upon the Mobile river,
Close to Mobile Bay,
There's where my thoughts are running ever,
All through the live-long day.
There I've a good and kind old mother,
Though she is a slave,
There I've a sister and a brother,
Lying in their peaceful graves.
Close to Mobile Bay,
There's where my thoughts are running ever,
All through the live-long day.
There I've a good and kind old mother,
Though she is a slave,
There I've a sister and a brother,
Lying in their peaceful graves.
Oh! could I some how or other,
Drive these tears away;
When I think about my poor old mother,
Down upon the Mobile Bay.
Drive these tears away;
When I think about my poor old mother,
Down upon the Mobile Bay.
O! could I see that old fence corner,
Where she used to pray,
Though master laid the lash upon her,
Driving her abruptly away.
There often while we all were sleeping,
Free from every care,
You can find my poor old mother weeping,
Sending up her anxious prayer.
Where she used to pray,
Though master laid the lash upon her,
Driving her abruptly away.
There often while we all were sleeping,
Free from every care,
You can find my poor old mother weeping,
Sending up her anxious prayer.
Oh! could I some how or other, &c.
No one had she to soothe her sorrow—
None on earth but me;
And where I might be sent to-morrow,
To her was in eternity.
One day, she says, I'm old and feeble,
Naught can do but pray,
Now, my son, while you're young and able,
Try to get to Canada.
None on earth but me;
And where I might be sent to-morrow,
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One day, she says, I'm old and feeble,
Naught can do but pray,
Now, my son, while you're young and able,
Try to get to Canada.
Oh! could I some how or other, &c.
Oh! how my heart did fail and falter,
Oh! how bad I felt,
When before that sacred family altar,
I was for the last time knelt.
There to leave my mother old and weary,
Her sad fate to share,
There to spend her days so lone and dreary,
Filled my heart with deep despair.
Oh! how bad I felt,
When before that sacred family altar,
I was for the last time knelt.
There to leave my mother old and weary,
Her sad fate to share,
There to spend her days so lone and dreary,
Filled my heart with deep despair.
Oh! could I some how or other, &c.
But when I viewed my sad condition,
Young and in my prime,
I resolved to change my situation,
For a free and healthy clime.
My mother wept for joy when I told her,
I should run away—
That I never would be three days older,
Ere I left for Canada.
Young and in my prime,
I resolved to change my situation,
For a free and healthy clime.
My mother wept for joy when I told her,
I should run away—
That I never would be three days older,
Ere I left for Canada.
Oh! could I some how or other, &c.
I never can forget that morning,
When my chains I broke,
Just about the time that day was dawning,
I threw off the tyrant's yoke.
Two thousand miles or more to freedom,
And a road unknown!
Was it not for mother's constant pleading,
Never would I left my home.
When my chains I broke,
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I threw off the tyrant's yoke.
Two thousand miles or more to freedom,
And a road unknown!
Was it not for mother's constant pleading,
Never would I left my home.
Oh! could I some how or other, &c.
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