Margaret Fuller, Memoirs of Margaret Fuller Ossoli
W. H. Channing, Ed.

In thirty-eight I set my foot
     On this New England shore;
My thoughts were then to stay one years
     And here remain no more.

But, by the preaching of God's word
     By famous Shepard he,
In what a woful state I was,
     I then began to see.

Christ cast his garments over me,
     And all my sins did cover:
More precious to my soul was he
     Than dearest friend or lover.

His pardoning mercy to my soul
     All thought did far surmount;
The measure of his love to me
     Was quite beyond account.

Ascended on his holy hill,
     I saw the city clear,
And knew 'twas New Jerusalem,
     I was to it so near.

I said, My mountain does stand strong,
     And doubtless 'twill forever;
But soon God turned his face away,
     And joy from me did sever.

Sometimes I am on mountains high,
     Sometimes in valleys low:—
The state that man's in here below,
     Doth ofttimes ebb and flow.

I heard the voice of God by man,
     Yet sorrows held me fast;
But these my joys did far exceed;
     God heard my cry at last.

Satan has flung his darts at me,
     And thought the day to win;
Because he knew he had a friend
     That always dwelt within.

But surely God will save my soul I
     And, though you trouble have,
My children dear, who fear the Lord,
     Your souls at death he'll save.