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It was in sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthral, For the lands of Virginia,-ginia, 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 and frost, Like the lands of Virginia,-ginia, O: Their streams for ever flow, and their 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,-ginia, O; And I think on friends most dear, with the bitter, bitter tear, And alas! I am weary, weary O. Please fill in the fields below and click SUBMIT to send it to your friend.
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