Uncle Joe comes home a singing,
Hail, Columby!
Glorious times de Lord is bringin’ —
Now let me die.
Fling the chains into the ribber —
Lay de burden by;
Dar is one who will delibber —
Now let me die.
Ring de Bells in eb’ry steeple!
Raise the Flag on high!
De Lord has come to Sabe the people —
Now let me die.
Bressed days, I lib to see dem,
Hail Columby!
I hab drawn a breff of freedom —
Now let me die.
Ninety years I bore the burden,
Den he heard me cry;
Standin’ on de banks ob Jordan —
Now let me die.
Dis is what the war was brought for,
Hail, Columby!
Dis is what our faders fought for —
Now let me die.
Dar’s an end to all dis sorrow,
Comin’ by and by;
Prayin’ for dat bressed morrow —
Now let me die.
I hab seen de rebels beaten,
Hail Columby!
I Hab seen dar boots retreatin’, —
Now let me die.
O! dis Union can’t be broken,
Dar’s no use to try;
No sech thing the Lord has spoken —
Now let me die.
I’ll go home a singing “Glory!”
Hail Columby!
Since I heard dis bressed story —
Now let me die.
‘Tis de ransom ob de nation,
Drawing’ now so nigh;
‘Tis de day ob full salbation, —
Now let me die.
(Henry Clay Work)
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Based on Topics: Sadness Poems, War & Peace Poems, Cry Poems, Success Poems, People Poems, Liberty & Freedom Poems, Singing Poems, Drawing & Painting PoemsBased on Keywords: sech, bringin, sabe, ribber, breff, columby, retreatin, bressed