A Selection of Original Songs, Scraps, Etc., by Ned Farmer/The Young Slave's Belief
The Young Slave's Belief.
What you term stars in yonder skies
Are lovelier far—they 're angel's eyes;
And when looks dim that glorious throng,
They weep that those they love do wrong.
The soft and murmuring winds you hear
Are sighs that precede the coming tear,
My Mother's, 'mong them, oft in showers;
I've knelt me down and pray'd for hours,
Hoping a tear from her bright eye
Might fall upon her Orphan Boy.
You've heard the thunder's awful crash,
And seen the lightning's vivid flash;
'Tis "him" in anger, "he" who gave
Life to the White man and the Slave.
Who will demand the reason why
You thus enslave his Indian Boy?
"Will judge us by the heart within,
"Nor heed the color of the skin."