Like an ocean is this world;

None undrenched may cross that ocean.

My ship too its sails unfurled,

Ere I knew it was in motion.

Now we draw towards the land,

And I fear the sea-board yonder:—

Lest the rocks upon the strand

Break and tear our planks asunder.

I will pray God that He raise

From the shore a breeze to meet us,—

To disperse this gloomy haze,

That a happy land may greet us.