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.