Oh! Cold March winds your cruel laments Are hard on prisoners’ hearts, For you bring my mother’s pleading cries From whom I have to part. I hear her weeping lonely sobs Her sorrows sweep me by, And in the dark of prison cell A tear has warmed my eye. Oh! Whistling winds why do you weep When roaming free you are, Oh! Is it that your poor heart’s broke And scattered off afar? Or is it that you bear the cries Of people born unfree, Who like your way have no control Or sovereign destiny? Oh! Lonely winds that walk the night To haunt the sinner’s soul Pray pity me a wretched lad Who never will grow old. Pray pity those who lie in pain The bondsman and the slave, And whisper sweet the breath of God Upon my humble grave. Oh! Cold March winds that pierce the dark You cry in aged tones For souls of folk you’ve brought to God But still you bear the moans. Oh! Weeping wind this lonely night My mother’s heart is sore, Oh! Lord of all breathe freedom’s breath That she may weep no more.