By the rows about the waste;
By your harsh, discordant voice
Scolding with expletives choice!
By my lot of work, and woe,—
If I’m bad, you’ve made me so.
Cruel Missis! never more
Shall midnight find my toil scarce o’er—
Never more! And Missis, yet,
My parting words you’ll ne’er forget,
As changing slaveys come—and go: