 | The Sorrows of Yamba or The Negro Woman's Lamentation |  |
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Cheap Repository.
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The SORROWS of YAMBA;
Or, The Negro Woman's Lamentation.
To the Tune of Hoſier's
Ghoſt.
[Description: 24-bit, 300 dpi printed broadside]
"In St. Lucie's diſtant Iſle,
"Still with Afric's love I burn;
"Parted many a thouſand mile,
"Never, never to return.
"Still with Afric's love I burn;
"Parted many a thouſand mile,
"Never, never to return.
"Come, kind death! and give me reſt,
"Yamba has no friend by thee;
"Thou can'ſt eaſe my throbbing breaſt,
"Thou can'ſt ſet the Priſoner free.
"Yamba has no friend by thee;
"Thou can'ſt eaſe my throbbing breaſt,
"Thou can'ſt ſet the Priſoner free.
"Down my cheeks the tears are dripping,
"Broken is my heart with grief;
"Mangled my poor fleſh with whipping,
"Come kind death! and bring relief.
"Broken is my heart with grief;
"Mangled my poor fleſh with whipping,
"Come kind death! and bring relief.
"Born on Afric's Golden Coaſt,
"Once I was as bleſt as you;
"Parents tender I could boaſt,
"Husband dear, and children too.
"Once I was as bleſt as you;
"Parents tender I could boaſt,
"Husband dear, and children too.
"Whity Man he came from far,
"Sailing o'er the briny flood,
"Who, with help of Britiſh Tar,
"Buys up human fleſh and blood.
"Sailing o'er the briny flood,
"Who, with help of Britiſh Tar,
"Buys up human fleſh and blood.
"With the Baby at my breaſt;
"(Other two were ſleeping by)
"In my Hut I ſat at reſt
"With no thought of danger nigh.
"(Other two were ſleeping by)
"In my Hut I ſat at reſt
"With no thought of danger nigh.
"From the buſh at even tide
"Ruſh'd the fierce man-ſtealing Crew;
"Seiz'd the Children by my ſide,
"Seiz'd the wretched Yamba too.
"Ruſh'd the fierce man-ſtealing Crew;
"Seiz'd the Children by my ſide,
"Seiz'd the wretched Yamba too.
"Then for love of filthy Gold,
"Strait they bore me to the ſea;
"Cramm'd me down a Slave-ſhip's hold,
"Where were Hundreds ſtow'd like me.
"Strait they bore me to the ſea;
"Cramm'd me down a Slave-ſhip's hold,
"Where were Hundreds ſtow'd like me.
"Naked on the platform lying,
"Now we croſs the tumbling wave;
"Shrieking, ſickening, fainting, dying,
"Deed of ſhame for Britons brave.
"Now we croſs the tumbling wave;
"Shrieking, ſickening, fainting, dying,
"Deed of ſhame for Britons brave.
"At the ſavage Captain's beck,
"Now like Brutes they make us prance;
"Smack the Cat about the Deck,
"And in ſcorn they bid us dance.
"Now like Brutes they make us prance;
"Smack the Cat about the Deck,
"And in ſcorn they bid us dance.
"I in groaning paſs'd the night,
"And did roll my aching head;
"At the break of morning light,
"My poor Child was cold and dead.
"And did roll my aching head;
"At the break of morning light,
"My poor Child was cold and dead.
"Happy, happy there ſhe lies!
"Thou ſhalt feel the laſh no more.
"Thus full many a Negro dies,
"Ere we reach the deſtin'd ſhore.
"Thou ſhalt feel the laſh no more.
"Thus full many a Negro dies,
"Ere we reach the deſtin'd ſhore.
"Driven like Cattle to a fair,
"See they ſell us young and old;
"Child from Mother too they tear,
"All for love of filthy Gold.
"See they ſell us young and old;
"Child from Mother too they tear,
"All for love of filthy Gold.
"I was ſold to Maſſa hard,
"Some have Maſſas kind and good;
"And again my back was ſcarr'd
"Bad and ſtinted was my food.
"Some have Maſſas kind and good;
"And again my back was ſcarr'd
"Bad and ſtinted was my food.
"Poor and wounded, faint and ſick,
"All expoſs'd to burning ſky,
"Maſſa bids me graſs to pick,
"And now I am near to die.
"All expoſs'd to burning ſky,
"Maſſa bids me graſs to pick,
"And now I am near to die.
[Description: 24-bit 300 dpi detail from broadside showing missionary and slave
]
"What and if to death he ſend me,
"Savage murder tho' it be,
"Britiſh Laws ſhall ne'er befriend me;
"They protect not Slaves like me!"
"Savage murder tho' it be,
"Britiſh Laws ſhall ne'er befriend me;
"They protect not Slaves like me!"
Mouthing thus my wretched ſtate,
(Ne'er may I forget the day)
Once in duſk of evening late,
Far from home I dared to ſtray;
(Ne'er may I forget the day)
Once in duſk of evening late,
Far from home I dared to ſtray;
Dared, alas! with impious haſte,
Tow'rds the roaring ſea to fly;
Death itſelf I longed to taſte,
Long'd to caſt me in and Die.
Tow'rds the roaring ſea to fly;
Death itſelf I longed to taſte,
Long'd to caſt me in and Die.
There I met upon the Strand
Engliſh Miſſionary Good,
He had Bible book in hand,
Which poor me no underſtood.
Engliſh Miſſionary Good,
He had Bible book in hand,
Which poor me no underſtood.
Then he led me to his Cot,
Sooth'd and pity'd all my woe;
Told me 'twas the Chriſtian's lot
Much to ſuffer here below.
Sooth'd and pity'd all my woe;
Told me 'twas the Chriſtian's lot
Much to ſuffer here below.
Told me then of God's dear Son,
(Strange and wond'rous is the ſtory;)
What ſad wrong was to him done,
Tho' he was the Lord of Glory.
(Strange and wond'rous is the ſtory;)
What ſad wrong was to him done,
Tho' he was the Lord of Glory.
Told me too, like one who knew him,
(Can ſuch love as this be true?)
How he dy'd for them that ſlew him.
Died for wretched Yamba too.
(Can ſuch love as this be true?)
How he dy'd for them that ſlew him.
Died for wretched Yamba too.
Freely he his mercy proffer'd,
And to Sinners he was ſent;
E'en to Maſſa pardon's offer'd;
O if Maſſa would repent!
And to Sinners he was ſent;
E'en to Maſſa pardon's offer'd;
O if Maſſa would repent!
Wicked deed full many a time
Sinful Yamba too hath done;
But ſhe wails to God her crime;
But ſhe truſts his only Son.
Sinful Yamba too hath done;
But ſhe wails to God her crime;
But ſhe truſts his only Son.
O ye ſlaves whom Maſſa beat,
Ye are ſtained with guilt within
As ye hope for mercy ſweet
So forgive your Maſſas' Sin.
Ye are ſtained with guilt within
As ye hope for mercy ſweet
So forgive your Maſſas' Sin.
And with grief when ſinking low,
Mark the Road that Yamba trod;
Think how all her pain and woe
Brought the Captive home to God.
Mark the Road that Yamba trod;
Think how all her pain and woe
Brought the Captive home to God.
Now let Yamba too adore
Gracious Heaven's myſterious Plan;
Now I'll count thy mercies o'er,
Flowing thro' the guilt of man.
Gracious Heaven's myſterious Plan;
Now I'll count thy mercies o'er,
Flowing thro' the guilt of man.
Now I'll bleſs my cruel capture,
(Hence I've known a Saviour's name)
'Till my Grief is turn'd to Rapture,
And I half forget the blame.
(Hence I've known a Saviour's name)
'Till my Grief is turn'd to Rapture,
And I half forget the blame.
But tho' here a Convert rare
Thanks her God for Grace divine,
Let not man the glory ſhare,
Sinner, ſtill the guilt is thine.
Thanks her God for Grace divine,
Let not man the glory ſhare,
Sinner, ſtill the guilt is thine.
Duly now baptiz'd am I
By good Miſſionary Man;
Lord my nature purify
As no outward water can!
By good Miſſionary Man;
Lord my nature purify
As no outward water can!
All my former thoughts abhorr'd
Teach me now to pray and praiſe;
Joy and glory in my Lord,
Truſt and ſerve him all my days.
Teach me now to pray and praiſe;
Joy and glory in my Lord,
Truſt and ſerve him all my days.
But tho' death this hour may find me,
Still with Afric's love I burn,
(There I've left a ſpouſe behind me)
Still to native land I turn.
Still with Afric's love I burn,
(There I've left a ſpouſe behind me)
Still to native land I turn.
And when Yamba ſinks in death,
This my lateſt prayer ſhall be,
While I yield my parting breath,
O that Afric might be free.
This my lateſt prayer ſhall be,
While I yield my parting breath,
O that Afric might be free.
Ceaſe, ye Britiſh Sons of murder!
Ceaſe from forging Afric's Chain;
Mock your Saviour's name no further,
Ceaſe your ſavage luſt of gain.
Ceaſe from forging Afric's Chain;
Mock your Saviour's name no further,
Ceaſe your ſavage luſt of gain.
Ye that boaſt "Ye rule the
waves,"
Bid no Slave Ship ſoil the ſea,
Ye that "never will be ſlaves"
Bid poor Afric's land be free.
Bid no Slave Ship ſoil the ſea,
Ye that "never will be ſlaves"
Bid poor Afric's land be free.
Where ye gave to war it's birth,
Where your traders fix'd their den,
There go publiſh "Peace on Earth,"
Go proclaim "good will to men."
Where your traders fix'd their den,
There go publiſh "Peace on Earth,"
Go proclaim "good will to men."
Where ye once have carried ſlaughter,
Vice, and Slavery, and Sin;
Seiz'd on Huſband, Wife, and Daughter,
Let the Goſpel enter in.
Vice, and Slavery, and Sin;
Seiz'd on Huſband, Wife, and Daughter,
Let the Goſpel enter in.
Thus where Yamba's native home,
Humble Hut of Ruſhes flood,
Oh if there ſhould chance to roam
Some dear Miſſionary good,
Humble Hut of Ruſhes flood,
Oh if there ſhould chance to roam
Some dear Miſſionary good,
Thou in Afric's diſtant land,
Still ſhalt ſee the man I love;
Join him to the Chriſtian band,
Guide his Soul to Realms above.
Still ſhalt ſee the man I love;
Join him to the Chriſtian band,
Guide his Soul to Realms above.
There no Fiend again ſhall ſever
Thoſe whom God hath join'd and bleſt;
There they dwell with Him for ever,
There "weary are at rest."
Thoſe whom God hath join'd and bleſt;
There they dwell with Him for ever,
There "weary are at rest."
—
[Description: 24-bit, 300 dpi detail of broadside]
Entered at Stationers Hall.]
—
Sold by J. MARSHALL,
(PRINTER to the CHEAP REPOSITORY for Religious and Moral Tracts) No. 17, Queen-Street, Cheap-ſide, and No. 4,
Aldermary Church-Yard, and R. WHITE, Piccadilly, LONDON.
By S. HAZARD,
PRINTER to the CHEAP REPOSITORY, at BATH; and by all Bookſellers, Newſmen, and Hawkers in andTown Country.
Great Allowance will be made to Shopkeepers and Hawkers,
Price an Halfpenny, or 2s. 3d. per 100, 1s. 3d. for 50, 9d. for 25.
—
Sold by J. MARSHALL,
(PRINTER to the CHEAP REPOSITORY for Religious and Moral Tracts) No. 17, Queen-Street, Cheap-ſide, and No. 4,
Aldermary Church-Yard, and R. WHITE, Piccadilly, LONDON.
By S. HAZARD,
PRINTER to the CHEAP REPOSITORY, at BATH; and by all Bookſellers, Newſmen, and Hawkers in andTown Country.
Great Allowance will be made to Shopkeepers and Hawkers,
Price an Halfpenny, or 2s. 3d. per 100, 1s. 3d. for 50, 9d. for 25.
| The Sorrows of Yamba or The Negro Woman's Lamentation | |