Our bitter tasks are ended, all onr unpaid labor done;
Our galling chains are broken, and our onward march begun:
Go down, Abraham, away down in Dixie’s land,
Tell Jeff. Davis to let my people go.
Down in the house of bondage we have watched and waited long;
The oppressor’s heel was heavy, the oppressor’s arm was strong:
Go down, Abraham, away down in Dixie’s land,
Tell Jeff. Davis to let my people go.
Not vainly have we waited through the long and darkened years;
Not vain the patient watching, ’mid our sweat and blood and tears: