Oft in the Chilly Night

Oft in the chilly night,
Ere slumber’s chain has bound me,
When all her silvery light
The moon is pouring round me,
Beneath its ray I kneel and pray
That God would give some token
That slavery’s chains on Southern plains,
Shall all ere long be broken;
Yes, in the chilly night,
Though slavery’s chain has bound me,
Kneel I, and feel the might
Of God’s right arm around me.