Whar yo' been, poor mourner, whar yo' been so long?
"Been down in de valley, for to pray;
An' I ain't done prayin' yet."
Then, how, when oppressed by years of servitude to which others thought there would be no end, we hear them break out into quaint and wild bursts of appeal to fact:
My Lord delibered Daniel,
My Lord delibered Daniel,
My Lord delibered Daniel;
Why can't He deliber me?
I met a pilgrim on de way, an' I ask him where he's gwine.
"I'm bound for Canaan's happy lan',