Where workers toil like spectral shadows,
’Tis there you’ll find my resting place.
Seek me not where birds are singing,
Not there my spirit you can trace;
A slave am I—where chains are ringing,
’Tis there you’ll find my resting place.
Seek me not ’mid fountains dashing,
Not there my spirit you can trace,
Where tears are falling, teeth are gnashing,
’Tis there you’ll find my resting place.