An' dat's de story ob de way
Dat Massa Linkum come,
Widout de marchin' ob de troops,
Or beatin' ob de drum.
Dat Massa Linkum come,
Widout de marchin' ob de troops,
Or beatin' ob de drum.
An' tho' black Mose is growin' ole,
An' foolish some folks say;
He don't forget de t'ings he saw
Dat wondrous Sabbath day.
An' foolish some folks say;
He don't forget de t'ings he saw
Dat wondrous Sabbath day.
LA GILLOTINE
I see a square where that dread engine stands,
And gathered round a cruel vengeful throng,
Made blind by centuries of want and wrong
To truth and right, with blood upon their hands.
Amid the throng one noble figure stands,
With regal form and features clear and strong,
Indifferent to curses deep and long
Heaped on her head by Paris' motly bands.
A moment e'er she dies she lifts her head
To view the form of liberty that cries
Eternally to God against man's lies;
The whole world knows the glowing words she said.
O liberty! unto thy holy name
What crimes are linked to hide their burning shame.
And gathered round a cruel vengeful throng,
Made blind by centuries of want and wrong
To truth and right, with blood upon their hands.
Amid the throng one noble figure stands,
With regal form and features clear and strong,
Indifferent to curses deep and long
Heaped on her head by Paris' motly bands.
A moment e'er she dies she lifts her head
To view the form of liberty that cries
Eternally to God against man's lies;
The whole world knows the glowing words she said.
O liberty! unto thy holy name
What crimes are linked to hide their burning shame.
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