112
She groan'd, she shriek'd—I could not spare
For the Captain he stood by—
Dear God! that I might rest one night
From that poor woman's cry!
For the Captain he stood by—
Dear God! that I might rest one night
From that poor woman's cry!
She twisted from the blows—her blood
Her mangled flesh I see—
And still the Captain would not spare—
Oh he was worse than me!
Her mangled flesh I see—
And still the Captain would not spare—
Oh he was worse than me!
She could not be more glad than I
When she was taken down,
A blessed minute—'twas the last
That I have ever known!
When she was taken down,
A blessed minute—'twas the last
That I have ever known!
I did not close my eyes all night,
Thinking what I had done;
I heard her groans and they grew faint
About the rising sun.
Thinking what I had done;
I heard her groans and they grew faint
About the rising sun.
