Uncle Tom's cabin.
I'm thinking of poor Uncle Tom,
So generous, kind, and brave;
The white man came when he was young.
And claim'd him as his slave.
Accursed he those sordid knaves
Across th' Atlantic sea.
Who traffic thus in human flesh,
In a land they boast as free !
Oh. poor Tom. poor Uncle Tom.
For thee kind pity's tear we crave ;
Oh, poor Tom. poor Uncle Tom,
The good old negro slave !
Awhile amid his lot so drear.
Some joy 'twas his to find :
His wife and little ones were dear,
His master, too. was kind.
His cabin it was clean and neat.
He'd all he wished to crave ;
And thus with a contented mind,
Forgot he was a slave.
But fortune on his master frown'd.
When years thus on had roll'd ;
And Uncle Tom, his faithful slave,
Was to another sold.
In vain lor mercy he did pray?
Oh, what a scene was there !
Tom from his wife and little ones,
The bondsman's chain to bear.
Alas ! who changed was poor Tom's fate,
How heavy were his cares ;
Doom'd to endure the galling lash.
In fain were all his tears.
How scant his meal, his dwelling too,
A wretched, filthy shed ;
And after many hours of toil,
A heap of straw his bed.
And thus for many a weary year
Did Uncle Tom remain ;
When heaven, in mercy. to his home
Restored him once again.
The poor old negro's toil was o'er.
At length repose was nigh :
He saw his wise and little ones,
he saw them?but to die!
And shall the sordid, brutal wretch,
Of human souls the ban ?
Shall he who is but man himself,
Enslave his fellow man ?
Oh, are we not kith and kin?
Then all united be,
To give to each other a brother's hand,
And set the black man free.
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Probable period of publication:
1852-1859 shelfmark: L.C.Fol.178.A.2(052)
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