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287 Indian Convert


In de dark woods, no Ind'an nigh,
Den me look heb'n and send up cry,
Upon my knee so low:
But God on high in shiny place,
See me at night wid teary face,
De preacher tell me so.

God send He angel, take um care,
He cum He self and hear um prayer,
If Ind'an heart do pray,
He see me now, He know me here;
He say, poor Ind'an never fear,
Me wid you night and day.

So me lub God, wid inside heart,
He fight for me, He take um part, 
He save um life before:
God hear poor Ind'an in de wood;
So me lub Him and dat be good,
Me prize Him evermore.

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