I am not going to die, I'm going home like a shooting star.

I am not going to die, I'm going home like a shooting star.

I have plowed and planted and gathered into barns, and no man could head me. And aren't I a woman?

It is written that there shall be a separation, and the sheep shall be separated from the goats. The other preachers have the sheep; I have the goats. And I have a few sheep among my goats, but they are very ragged.

God will take care of the poor trampled slave, but where will the slaveholder be when eternity begins?

Good man! Genuine gentleman! God bless George Thompson, the great-hearted friend of my race.