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,

I must never see it more,

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 flow'rs 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,

And alas! I am weary, weary O!