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首页Poems and Songs of Robert Burns The Slaves Lament

The Slaves Lament

    the slave's lament
    it was in sweet senegal that my foes did me enthral,
    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:


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