As I gaze at the scenes of nature,
I think of that Artist above;
Who painted them by creation,
And keeps them by His love.
The trees, the grass, the flowers,
The songs of the merry birds;
Should make us love and praise His name,
And rejoice in His holy word.
The sky, the clouds, the sunshine,
The valleys, the mountains and hills;
The springs, the oceans and rivers,
The lakes and the tiny rills.
O Holy Artist, our most High God,
Who painted each beautiful scene;
Most beautiful for earthly eyes to behold,
Thy choicest color was Green.
[SLAVERY]
Of all the stories can be told,
Of wars and men of bravery;
There is none as true and interesting,
As the story told of slavery.
In sixteen-hundred and nineteen,
When Negroes were first sold;
As slaves upon the American soil,
Their hardships are untold.
Contrary to his thoughtless will,
Bound hand to hand;
Brought across an unknown sea,
In an unknown fate, to an unknown land.
It will never be read in history,
It will never be heard in voice;
Of the horrible deeds of slavery,
But for freedom we rejoice.