The Poor Old Slave - song lyrics 
American Old-time song lyrics from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
THE POOR OLD SLAVE 
Tis just one year ago to-day, That I remember well; I sat down by poor Nelly's side, A story she did tell; 'Twas about a poor unhappy slave, That lived for many a year; But now he's dead and in his grave, No master does he fear. 
Chorus. The poor old slave has gone to rest, We know that he is free; Disturb him not, but let him rest, 'Way down in Tennessee. 
She took my arm, we walked along Into an open field; And here she paused to breathe a while, Then to his grave did steal. She sat down by that little mound, And softly whispered there: Come to me, father, 'tis thy child! Then gently dropped a tear.-Chorus. 
But since that time, how things have changed! Poor Nelly, that was my bride, Is laid beneath the cold grave-sod, With her father by her side. I planted there, upon her grave, The weeping willow-tree; I bathed its roots with many a tear, That it might shelter me.-Chorus.