Where the noisesome 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,
From Virginia’s hills and waters,—
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!
Gone, gone,—sold and gone,