The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 3.
John Greenleaf Whittier, Ed.

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[56]

The farewell

Of a Virginia slave mother to her daughters sold into Southern bondage.

gone, gone,—sold and gone,
     To the rice-swamp dank and lone.
Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings,
     Where the noisome insect stings,
Where the fever demon strews
     Poison with the falling dews,
Where the sickly sunbeams glare
     Through the hot and misty air;
Gone, gone,—sold and gone,
     To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
     Woe is me, my stolen daughters!

Gone, gone,—sold and gone,
     To the rice-swamp dank and lone.
There no mother's eye is near them,
     There no mother's ear can hear them;
Never, when the torturing lash
     Seams their back with many a gash,
Shall a mother's kindness bless them,
     Or a mother's arms caress them.
Gone, gone,—sold and gone,
     To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters;
     Woe is me, my stolen daughters!

Gone, gone,—sold and gone,
     To the rice-swamp dank and lone.