Volume Thirteen - Pre-Victorian to the Present Day - even more aspects - Slavery - echoes of the past . . . .

Why am I Slave?

	Why do I bear that cursed name ?
		Why, why am I a slave ?
	Why doomed to drag a wretched life
		In sorrow to the grave ?
	Born 'mid the mountain solitudes,
		And as the lion free,
	Who had a right to bind these limbs
		And make a slave of me ?

	I looked - there stood the white man's home,
		'Mid pleasant founts and flowers,
	'Mid waving woods and waters clear,
		Green vines and rosy bowers ;
	It had an air of loveliness
		That suited not despair -
	I turned away, for well I knew
		That happy hearts were there.

	Why do I bear that cursed name ?
		Why, why am I a slave ?
	Why doomed to drag a wretched life
		In sorrow to the grave ?
	Born 'mid the mountain solitudes,
		And as the lion free,
	Who had a right to bind these limbs
		And make a slave of me ?