109. The Gift of Tongues
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ONCE cast with men of language strange |
| And foreign-moulded creed, |
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I mark'd their random converse change, |
| And sacred themes succeed. |
Oh, how I coveted the gift |
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To thread their mingled throng
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| 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, |
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Or is it sent at seasons rare |
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And then flits back to heaven?
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At Sea.
June 24, 1833.
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