Since a new ground I plowed with a balky mule,
But I’ve lived to see balky and a nigger fool.
No deep-seated scorn of the African fool—
There’s plenty like him from the hills to the sea;
’Tis the union of nigger and a stubborn mule,
That surpasses the sport of an all-round school,
If not for professor for fun-loving me,
And as long as I’m playful, my play shall be free.
Aye friend, ’tis a wonderful thing to be free,
Though many a free man I’d call a fool,