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THE SLAVE MOTHER.A TALE OF THE OHIO.
I have but four, the treasures of my soul,
They lay like doves around my heart;
I tremble lest some cruel hand
Should tear my household wreaths apart.
They lay like doves around my heart;
I tremble lest some cruel hand
Should tear my household wreaths apart.
My baby girl, with childish glance,
Looks curious in my anxious eye,
She little knows that for her sake
Deep shadows round my spirit lie.
Looks curious in my anxious eye,
She little knows that for her sake
Deep shadows round my spirit lie.
My playful boys could I forget,
My home might seem a joyous spot,
But with their sunshine mirth I blend
The darkness of their future lot.
My home might seem a joyous spot,
But with their sunshine mirth I blend
The darkness of their future lot.
And thou my babe, my darling one,
My last, my loved, my precious child,
Oh! when I think upon thy doom
My heart grows faint and then throbs wild.
My last, my loved, my precious child,
Oh! when I think upon thy doom
My heart grows faint and then throbs wild.
The Ohio's bridged and spanned with ice,
The northern star is shining bright,
I'll take the nestlings of my heart
And search for freedom by its light.
The northern star is shining bright,
I'll take the nestlings of my heart
And search for freedom by its light.
