Oh, roll, Jordan! roll, Jordan! roll, Jordan roll!

CHORUS.

"Oh, roll, Jordan, roll! oh, roll, Jordan, roll!
My soul arise in heab'n, Lord,
Fur to hear de ven Jordan roll!

"Little chil'en, learn to fear de Lord,
And let your days be long.
Oh, roll, Jordan! roll, Jordan! roll, Jordan,
roll!

CHORUS.

"Oh, march, de angel, march! oh, march, de
angel, march!
My soul arise in heab'n, Lord,
Fur to hear de ven Jordan roll!"

The "Mr. Fuller" referred to was their former minister, to whom they
seem to have been much attached. He is a Southerner, but loyal, and is
now, I believe, living in Baltimore. After the sermon the minister
called upon one of the elders, a gray-headed old man, to pray. His
manner was very fervent and impressive, but his language was so broken
that to our unaccustomed ears it was quite unintelligible. After the
services the people gathered in groups outside, talking among
themselves, and exchanging kindly greetings with the superintendents and
teachers. In their bright handkerchiefs and white aprons they made a
striking picture under the gray-mossed trees. We drove afterward a mile