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Robert Burns (1759–1796).  Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics.  1909–14.
 
373. Song—The Slave’s Lament
 
 
IT was in sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthral,
      For the lands of Virginia,—ginia, O:
Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more;
      And alas! I am weary, weary O:
Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more;        5
      And alas! I am weary, weary O.
 
All on that charming coast is no bitter snow and frost,
      Like the lands of Virginia,—ginia, O:
There streams for ever flow, and there flowers for ever blow,
      And alas! I am weary, weary O:        10
There streams for ever flow, and there flowers for ever blow,
      And alas! I am weary, weary O:
 
The burden I must bear, while the cruel scourge I fear,
      In the lands of Virginia,—ginia, O;
And I think on friends most dear, with the bitter, bitter tear,        15
      And alas! I am weary, weary O:
And I think on friends most dear, with the bitter, bitter tear,
      And alas! I am weary, weary O:
 

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