You move merrily before the gentle gale,
and I sadly before the bloody whip.

You are freedom's swift winged angels,
that fly around the world;
I am confined in bonds of iron.

O, that I were free!

O, that I were one of your gallant decks,
and under your protecting wing.
Alas! betwixt me and you
the turbid waters roll.

Go on, go on;
O, that I could also go!

Could I but swim!
If I could fly!

O, why was I born a man,
of whom to make a brute!

The glad ship is gone:
she hides in the dim distance,
and I am left in the hell of unending slavery.

O, God, save me!
God, deliver me!
Let me be free! — Is there any God?
Why am I a slave?

I will run away.
I will not stand it.
Get caught or get clear, I'll try it.
I had as well die with ague as with fever.

I have only one life to lose.
I had as well be killed running as die standing.

Only think of it;
one hundred miles north,
and I am free!

 Try it? Yes!
God helping me, I will.
 It cannot be that I shall live and die a slave.

I will take to the water.
This very bay shall yet bear me into freedom.