the sve's ment
it was i senegal that my foes did me enthral,
for the nds of virginia,—ginia, o:
torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more;
and as! i am weary, weary o:
torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more;
and as! i am weary, weary o.
all on that charming coast is no bitter snow and frost,
like the nds of virginia,—ginia, o:
there streams for ever flow, and there flowers for ever blow,
and as! i am weary, weary o:
there streams for ever flow, and there flowers for ever blow,
and as! i am weary, weary o:
the burden i must
The Slaves Lament(1/2)