Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton collected and arranged by H. Augusta Dodge |
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SLAVERY |
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 | Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton |  |
SLAVERY
Lo, Afric's sons in bondage stand,
Fettered and chained from foot to hand,
Driven along from street to street,
Considered slaves by those they meet.
Fettered and chained from foot to hand,
Driven along from street to street,
Considered slaves by those they meet.
And when they're sold and settled, then
They work much more like brutes than men;
Their owners stand with whip in hand,
While they sweat upon his land.
They work much more like brutes than men;
Their owners stand with whip in hand,
While they sweat upon his land.
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And when they lag, from want of rest,
The whip unto their back is prest;
They smart with pain, he will not save.
Oh! it is hard to be a slave.
The whip unto their back is prest;
They smart with pain, he will not save.
Oh! it is hard to be a slave.
And when their daily round of toil
Is finished on the owner's soil,
They turn into some hovel mean,
That's neither tidy, nice, or clean.
Is finished on the owner's soil,
They turn into some hovel mean,
That's neither tidy, nice, or clean.
And when their scanty food they eat,
The hard ground serves them for a seat.
This is the life the slave must lead
And have no time to write or read.
The hard ground serves them for a seat.
This is the life the slave must lead
And have no time to write or read.
Their owners think not of their food,
They think not of their slave's best good,
They think not of the pain they gave.
But, oh! 'tis hard to be a slave.
They think not of their slave's best good,
They think not of the pain they gave.
But, oh! 'tis hard to be a slave.
| Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton | |