It was in sweet Senegal That my foes did me enthral For the lands of Virginia, -ginia, O! Torn from that lovely shore, And must never see it more, And alas! I am weary, weary, O! All on that charming coast Is no bitter snow and frost, Like the lands of Virginia, -ginia, O! There streams for ever flow, And the flowers for ever blow, And alas! I am weary, weary, O! The burden I must bear, While the cruel scourge I fear, In the lands of Virginia, -ginia, O! And I think on friends most dear With the bitter, bitter tear, And alas! I am weary, weary, O!