I'M FREE AT LAST!


As the young slave ran faster,
He kept on prayin'
For close on his trail
The blood hounds were bayin'.
He knew he had to run with all his might,
For soon it would be daylight!
Although the torch lights,
Seemed to be growin' dim,
He could still hear the men cursin' him.

The young man's life up to now,
Had been so rotten,
For he had grown up pickin',
The white man's cotton.
He couldn't count how many times,
He had been beaten,
Or even the times he hadn't eaten.
Only his faith in God had helped him endure,
And live a life that was righteous and pure!,

Yes, that his soul had been set free was true,
But, his body cried out for freedom too!
Growing tired of being whipped,
By the slave master's hand,
His daring way of escape he planned!

His plan was not only daring but cunning!
He had worked for years,
To master the art of running!
He was well known for keeping,
A fast steady pace,
And thus was the winner in many a race!
That his body was well conditioned he knew!
But, only God could "help him through!"

He waited 'til every soul,
On the plantation was in bed.
Then, from the only home,
He had ever known he fled.
He had no more than gotten,
Off the plantation grounds,
When he heard the bayin',
Of the dreaded bloodhounds!
As, he kept running,
It was just becoming daylight,
When the river between him,
And freedom came into sight!

Just in time he made it to the swollen river,
And began to swim,
As he heard the bloodhounds,
On the bank behind him!
When he made it to the other side,
He was so cold he began to shiver!
But, he knew the bloodhounds,
Couldn't cross the river!
Though his body was tired and bleeding,
His spirit felt great,
For he had reached his destination,
A Northern state!
So he continued to run,
Leaving behind his painful past,
Shouting, "Thanks be to God!"
"I'm free at last!"

Robert F. Dotson © 2006

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TRIPLES with EMMA