This is the day that gave me birth
In eighteen hundred seven;
From worlds unseen I came to earth,
Far from my native heaven.

Thirty and two long years have pass'd,
To grief and sorrow given;
And now to crown my woes at last
I am confined in prison.

'Tis not for crimes that I have done
That to my foes I'm given,
But to the world I am unknown,
And my reward's in heaven.

What troubled scenes may yet ensue
To strew my path with sorrow,
Is not for me to know, 'tis true,
I boast not of to-morrow.

One thing is sure, this life at best
Is like a troubled ocean;
I often wish myself at rest
From all its dire commotion.

But let its troubled bosom heave,
Its surges beat around me;
To truth, eternal truth, I cleave,
Its floods can never drown me.