Ere since I was a little boy
And learned to lisp the "Happy Land"
To sing has been my sweetest joy –
Oh God, why is this pleasure banned?

I’ve worked for years below the ground
With machine, and hammer and drill
Until the germs my weakness found
And on me forced their cruel will

Slowly came that quickening breath
Those gasping fights for God’s pure air
Sure signs that only end in death
Why must I leave a world so fair?

Always I prayed and humbly prayed
To keep my tuneful, singing voice
Death I could meet then unafraid
If but in song I might rejoice.

Often with gleemen or in choirs
The rehearsal hours before us
We’ve sang until our souls caught fire
The grand Hallelujah Chorus

I’ve sang the solemn rhythmic tunes
Anthem and chants of ages past
The weirdly mystic old lore runes
That men will sing while life shall last

Those dear old Negro minstrel songs
The bondsmen’s plea to God and Heav’n
I’ve sang till I have felt the thongs
And slaves chains round my body riv’n

And now my voice, oh God, is dumb
My throat is parched and lips are dry
My spirit’s sad, my heart is numb
Father, I pray Thee, tell me why?

I took the risk and paid the toll
I had to work to eat and live
Till dust and smoke have sapped the whole
Of manhood’s strength I had to give

But no, I shall not rail at fate
May be a brighter, better day –
For me, alas ‘twill come too late –
Will scatter clouds now cold and grey

And do not think I chant a dirge
When lips can sing no melody
E’en yet this soul and spirit surge
Old songs, old times of memory.

By Jabez Dodd