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? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WREATHE THE BOWL by THOMAS MOORE SONG TOURNAMENT: NEW STYLE by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE TWO ANGELS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER DOWN BY THE SALLEY GARDENS by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE FLIGHT OF THE GODDESS by CELIA THAXTER SATIRE: 4 by AULUS PERSIUS FLACCUS |