Once cast with men of language strange
And foreign-moulded creed,
I mark’d their random converse change,
And sacred themes succeed.
Oh, how I coveted the gift
To thread their mingled throng
Of sounds, then high my witness lift!
But weakness chain’d my tongue.
Lord! has our dearth of faith and prayer
Lost us this power once given,
Or is it sent at seasons rare
And then flits back to heaven?
At Sea. June 24, 1833.