| |
| GONE, gone,—sold and gone, | |
| To the rice-swamp dank and lone. | |
| Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings, | |
| Where the noisome insect stings, | |
| Where the fever demon strews | 5 |
| Poison with the falling dews, | |
| Where the sickly sunbeams glare | |
| Through the hot and misty air; | |
| Gone, gone,—sold and gone, | |
| To the rice-swamp dank and lone, | 10 |
| From Virginia’s hills and waters; | |
| Woe is me, my stolen daughters! | |
| |
| Gone, gone,—sold and gone, | |
| To the rice-swamp dank and lone. | |
| There no mother’s eye is near them, | 15 |
| There no mother’s ear can hear them; | |
| Never, when the torturing lash | |
| Seams their back with many a gash, | |
| Shall a mother’s kindness bless them, | |
| Or a mother’s arms caress them. | 20 |
| Gone, gone,—sold and gone, | |
| To the rice-swamp dank and lone, | |
| From Virginia’s hills and waters; | |
| Woe is me, my stolen daughters! | |
| |
| Gone, gone,—sold and gone, | 25 |
| To the rice-swamp dank and lone. | |
| O, when weary, sad, and slow, | |
| From the fields at night they go, | |
| Faint with toil, and racked with pain, | |
| To their cheerless homes again, | 30 |
| There no brother’s voice shall greet them; | |
| There no father’s welcome meet them. | |
| Gone, gone,—sold and gone, | |
| To the rice-swamp dank and lone, | |
| From Virginia’s hills and waters; | 35 |
| Woe is me, my stolen daughters! | |
| |
| Gone, gone,—sold and gone, | |
| To the rice-swamp dank and lone. | |
| From the tree whose shadow lay | |
| On their childhood’s place of play; | 40 |
| From the cool spring where they drank; | |
| Rock, and hill, and rivulet bank; | |
| From the solemn house of prayer, | |
| And the holy counsels there; | |
| Gone, gone,—sold and gone, | 45 |
| To the rice-swamp dank and lone, | |
| From Virginia’s hills and waters; | |
| Woe is me, my stolen daughters! | |
| |
| Gone, gone,—sold and gone, | |
| To the rice-swamp dank and lone; | 50 |
| Toiling through the weary day, | |
| And at night the spoiler’s prey. | |
| Oh, that they had earlier died, | |
| Sleeping calmly, side by side, | |
| Where the tyrant’s power is o’er, | 55 |
| And the fetter galls no more! | |
| Gone, gone,—sold and gone, | |
| To the rice-swamp dank and lone, | |
| From Virginia’s hills and waters; | |
| Woe is me, my stolen daughters! | 60 |
| |
| Gone, gone,—sold and gone, | |
| To the rice-swamp dank and lone. | |
| By the holy love He beareth; | |
| By the bruisëd reed He spareth; | |
| Oh, may He, to whom alone | 65 |
| All their cruel wrongs are known, | |
| Still their hope and refuge prove, | |
| With a more than mother’s love. | |
| Gone, gone,—sold and gone, | |
| To the rice-swamp dank and lone, | 70 |
| From Virginia’s hills and waters; | |
| Woe is me, my stolen daughters! | |
| |
