A BROTHER'S FAREWELL.
A SCENE AT THE SLAVE PEN.
By J. McC. SIMPSON.
THE A. A. S. DAVID.
AIR.—"Hard Times come again no more."
I am sold down to Georgia—
My grief none can tell;
Fare you well—we'll meet on earth no more.
My friends and relations,
I'll bid you all farewell;
Fare-you-well—we'll meet on earth no more.
When the lash of the driver is sounding,
'Way down—way down upon old Georgia's shore,
I will trust in my Saviour,
His grace I will implore—
Farewell—we'll meet on earth no more.
Fare-you-well, my dear mother,
I leave you now behind;
Farewell; we'll meet on earth no more.
Though a slave in Virginia,
You have been good and kind;
Farewell—we'll meet on earth no more.
When my sighs and groans are ascending—
'Way down—way down upon old Georgia's shore,
O! remember, my troubles
And grief will soon be o'er:
Farewell—we'll meet on earth no more.
Fare-you-well, my companion,
Our union now must end;
Farewell—we'll meet on earth no more.
Let your courage never fail you,
For God will be your friend:
Farewell—we'll meet on earth no more.
When the night overshadows my sleeping,
'Way down—way down upon old Georgia's shore.
I will come in dreams to greet you,
And watch your cabin door;
Farewell—we'll meet on earth no more.
'Tis no use to weep, my sister—
I'm sold, and now must yield;
Farewell—we'll meet on earth no more.
I must languish in sorrow,
In Georgia's cotton field:
Farewell—we'll meet on earth no more.
When the sun bids adieu to my labors,
'Way down—way down upon old Georgia's shore,
We will meet at the altar,
To tell our sorrows o'er:
Farewell—we'll meet on earth no more.
[There a voice is calling roughly, "Come,
Boy, come, we must go! Stop that foolishness!"]
Now my master is calling,
And I must soon depart:
Farewell—we'll meet on earth no more.
Here to leave my dear children,
It almost breaks my heart:
Farewell—we'll meet on earth no more.
When the trumpet of Gabriel is sounding—
'Way down—way down upon old Georgia's shore,
I will hail you in that morning,
On Canaan's happy shore:
Fare-you-well—we'll meet on earth no more.
NO, MASTER, NEVER:
By J. McC. SIMPSON.
THE A. A. S. DAVID.
AIR.—"Pop goes the Weasel."
Old master always said,
Jack will never leave me;
He has a noble head;
He will not deceive me.
I will treat him every day
Kindly and clever;
Then he will not run away.
No, master, never!
One night I heard him say,
He was going to Cleveland.
A thought struck me right away,
That this was a freeland.
I thought if I too could go,
The dearest ties I'd sever,
And never would come back no more—
Never—no never!
The next morn, at early dawn,
I heard old master knocking:
He says, "Jack, we must be gone—
Put on your shoes and stockings.
Quickly I bounded out,
And got my clothes together,
And told my wife I'd not come back—
No, Lizzy, never!
Soon we were on the way,
Towards the Forest City.
There to leave my wife a slave,
I thought it was a pity.
I heard mistress slightly say,
"We'll all keep together,
Or Jack will go to Canada."
"No," says master, "never!"
"Jack," says he, "be wide awake,
And let no body tease you;
And don't go too near the lake—
The cold winds will freeze you!"
Do you think I would run away,
And leave a man so clever,
And seek a home in Canada?
No, master, never!
We stopped at the Weddell House,
The thought then came o'er me,
That now's the time to go across,
As many have gone before me.
I went down to the steamboat wharf—
Got on the Jacob Astor,
And cried aloud as she shoved off,
"Farewell, old master!"
The next day, in Malden Town,
Who should I see but master.
He says, "Jack, you must go home;
You'll starve and freeze to death, sir."
Says I, "you are a nice old man;
Very kind and clever;
But think I'll wear my chains again?
No, master, never."
