The Freedman
Sapped with the toil of years,
Dumbly he questions the future,
Haunted and shaken with fears.
Slowly he searches the sad past;
Naught does he find there to shame
Faith of his heart--he was loyal,
But whose was the treason the blame?
Blindly he faces Life's problems;
Where are his children? full five
Filial sons strove and labored;
He knows not if one be alive!
Meekly he ponders, he wonders,
Why, in God's name, he should be
Adrift without rudder or compass,
Sore-smitten with age, on Life's sea.
Vainly he questions the Power
Almighty, that sweeps us along,
The lonely ones sighing and crying,
The mighty rejoicing with song.
Aged and broken and helpless,
Sapped with the toil of the years,
Dumbly he questions the future
Haunted and shaken with fears.