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Catalog Number KSa020108
Collection Kate Strong Historical Library
Object Name Poem
Dates of Creation 1864/01/14
Scope & Content Wake Nocodemis
Nicodemus the slave was of African birth and was bought a bag full of gold. He was reckoned as part of the salt of the earth he died years ago very old twas his last sad request so we laid him away in the trunk of an old hollow tree wake me up was his charge at the first break of day wake me up for the great jubilee Chorus. The good time coming is all most here it was a long long long long on the way now run and tell Eligah to hurry up jump and meet us at the gun tree down in the swamp to wake Nicodemus to day. He was known as a prophet at least was a wire he told of battles to come and we trembled with dread when he roled? Up his eyes and we heeded the shake of his them though he clothed us with fear yet the garments he wore were in patches at elbo and knee and he still wars the suit that he used to of yore as he sleeps in the old hollow tree.
Nicodemis was never the sport of the lash though the bullet had oft crossed his path there were none of his masters so brave or so rash as to dare such a man with his rath. Still his great heart with kindness was filed to the brim he obeyed who was born to command but he longed for the morning whitch now is at hand.
On reverse
Twas a long weary night we was all mort in fear that the future was more than the knew twas a long weary night but the morning is near and the words of our prophet are true there are signes in the sky that the darkness is gone there are tokens in the endless array and the storm witch has seemingly banished the dawn only hastens the advent of day
John B. Mount. January 14, 1864
Notes The words are recorded as they appear on the paper. What is recorded below are the identical words arranged to be more easily read as a poem./Wake Nicodemis
Nicodemus the slave was of African birth
and was bought a bag full of gold.
He was reckoned as part of the salt of the earth;
he died years ago very old
Twas his last sad request so we laid him away
in the trunk of an old hollow tree
Wake me up was his charge at the first break of day;
wake me up for the great jubilee
Chorus.
The good time coming is all most here;
it was a long long long on the way.
Now run and tell Eligah to hurry up jump,
and meet us at the gun tree down in the swamp
to wake Nicodemus to day.
He was known as a prophet;
at least was a wire
He told of battles to come and we trembled with dread
when he roled up his eyes and we heeded the shake of his them
Though he clothed us with fear
Yet the garments he wore
were in patches at elbo and knee
And he still wars the suit that he used to of yore
as he sleeps in the old hollow tree.
Nicodemis was never the sport of the lash
though the bullet had oft crossed his path
There were none of his masters so brave or so rash
as to dare such a man with his rath.
Still his great heart with kindness was filed to the brim
he obeyed who was born to command
But he longed for the morning whitch now is at hand.
On reverse
Twas a long weary night we was all mort in fear
that the future was more than the knew
Twas a long weary night but the morning is near
and the words of our prophet are true
There are signes in the sky that the darkness is gone
there are tokens in the endless array
And the storm witch has seemingly banished the dawn
only hastens the advent of day
John B. Mount. January 14, 1864