Gone, gone,—sold and gone,

To the rice-swamp dank and lone.

Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings,

Where the noisome insect stings,

Where the fever demon strews

Poison with the falling dews,

Where the sickly sunbeams glare

Through the hot and misty air,—

Gone, gone,—sold and gone,

To the rice-swamp dank and lone,