The Slave's Lament

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It was in sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthrall For the lands of Virginia-ginia O; Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more, And alas! I am weary, weary O! Torn from that lovely shore, and 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 flowers for ever blow, And alas! I am weary, weary O! There streams for ever flow, and there flowers 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! And I think on friends most dear, with the bitter, bitter tear, And alas! I am weary, weary O!