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Poem by Robert Burns


The Slave’s Lament


IT was in sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthral,
  For the lands of Virginia O;
Torn from that lovely shore, I must never see it more,
  And alas I am weary, weary O!

All on that charming coast is no bitter snow or frost,
  Like the lands of Virginia O;
There streams for ever flow, and there flowers for ever blow,
  And alas I am weary, weary O!

The burden I must bear, while the cruel scourge I fear,
  In the lands of Virginia O;
And I think on friends most dear, with the bitter, bitter tear,
  And alas I am weary, weary O!

1792

Robert Burns


Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. I Gaed a Waefu' Gate Yestreen
  2. Blythe Was She
  3. Gala Water
  4. Stay My Charmer
  5. Farewell to Ballochmyle


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