Is slowly sinking in the west,
He'll scarcely have a minute's rest.
He felt his temper quickly rise,
Thinking his slave too rich a prize,
To be allowed to slip away,
Without a trial for "fair play;"
A slave-catcher is worse than a beast of prey.
Said he, "My course is plain enough,
I'll take my horse and go for Cuff,
For he's my slave, and he shall give
To me, his service if he live."
Saddling his horse he mounts him quick,
Drives after Cuff with spur and stick:
Angel of Mercy.
But soon he paused his cause to try,
And thus he said, Why should not I
Be slave instead of Cuff, and he
As well be running after me
As I for him?—I'll let him go,
Whether he's free by law or no.