Tim Curry Wake Nicodemus Lyrics:
A ballad by Henry Clay Work, originally published
in 1864 Researched by Betty Thomas. Nicodemus the
slave was of African birth and was bought for a
bag full of gold; He was reckoned to be of the
salt of the earth, but he died years ago very old.
Twas his last sad request, so we laid him to rest
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." He
was known as a prophet, at least was as wise, for
he told of the battles to come; and we trembled
with dread when he rolled up his eyes, and we
heeded the shake of his thumb. Though he clothed
us with fear, yet the garments he wore were in
patches at elbow and knee; and he still wears the
suit that he used to of yore as he sleeps in the
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old hollow tree. Nicodemus was never the sport of
the lash, though the bullet has oft crossed his
path; there were none of his masters so brave or
so rash as to face such a man in his wrath. Yet
his great heart of kindness was filled to the
brim, he obeyed who was born to command; but he
longed for the morning which then was so dim, for
the morning which now is at hand. Twas a long
weary night, we were almost in fear that the
future was more than he knew; twas a long weary
night but the morning is near and the words of our
prophet are ture. There are signs in the sky that
the darkness is gone, there are tokens in endless
array; while the storm which had seemingly
banished the dawn, on hastens the event of the
day. (Refrain) The "good time coming" is
almost here, it was long, long, long on the way.
Now run and tell Elijah to hurry up pomp, and to
meet us at the gum tree down in the swamp, to wake
Nicodemus today.
Lyrics: Wake Nicodemus, Tim Curry [end]