The long,
dark night of the Past, with all its sorrows and its fears, was
forgotten; and for the Future,--the eyes of these freed children see no
clouds in it. It is full of sunlight, they think, and they trust in it,
perfectly.
After the distribution of the gifts, the children were addressed by some
of the gentlemen present. They then sang Whittier's Hymn, the "John
Brown" song, and several of their own hymns, among them a very singular
one, commencing,--
"I wonder where my mudder gone;
Sing, O graveyard!
Graveyard ought to know me;
Ring, Jerusalem!
Grass grow in de graveyard;
Sing, O graveyard!
Graveyard ought to know me;
Ring, Jerusalem!"
They improvise many more words as they sing. It is one of the strangest,
most mournful things I ever heard. It is impossible to give any idea of
the deep pathos of the refrain,--
"Sing, O graveyard!"
In this, and many other hymns, the words seem to have but little
meaning; but the tones,--a whole lifetime of despairing sadness is
concentrated in them. They sing, also, "Jehovyah, Hallelujah," which we
like particularly:--
"De foxes hab holes,
An' de birdies hab nes',
But de Son ob Man he hab not where
To lay de weary head.
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