the ve'sment

it was in sweet senegal that my foes did me enthral,

for thends of virginia,—ginia, o:

torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more;

and s! i am weary, weary o:

torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more;

and s! i am weary, weary o.

all on that charming coast is no bitter snow and frost,

like thends of virginia,—ginia, o:

there streams for ever flow, and there flowers for ever blow,