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

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[232] Ole massa on he trabbels gone;
     He leaf de land behind:
De Lord's breff blow him furder on,
     Like corn-shuck in de wind.
We own de hoe, we own de plough,
     We own de hands dat hold;
We sell de pig, we sell de cow,
     But nebber chile be sold.
De yam will grow, de cotton blow,
     We'll hab de rice an' corn;
Oh nebber you fear, if nebber you hear
     De driver blow his horn!

We pray de Lord: he gib us signs
     Dat some day we be free;
De norf-wind tell it to de pines,
     De wild-duck to de sea;
We tink it when de church-bell ring,
     We dream it in de dream;
De rice-bird mean it when he sing,
     De eagle when he scream.
De yam will grow, de cotton blow,
     We'll hab de rice an' corn:
Oh nebber you fear, if nebber you hear
     De driver blow his horn!

We know de promise nebber fail,
     Ana nebber lie de word;
So like de 'postles in de jail,
     We waited for de Lord:
Ana now he open ebery door,
     Ana trow away de key;
He tink we lub him so before,
     We lub him better free.