This text comes from A First Series of Hymns and Songs, a historical songbook transcribed on Wikisource and reproduced from the pinned revision linked below.
A narrow brooklet ill befits
The ship in gallant trim,
When bound across the ocean waves,
With precious freight to swim.
So, too, the heart confined to earth
A stranded object lies,
Meant by its Maker to maintain
Communion with the skies.
Oh, my poor bark, so long aground,
Expand thy drooping sail,
Forsake this narrow inland coast,
And catch the open gale.
It ill becomes thine origin,
Thy destiny sublime,
To stay immers'd in vanities
Upon the shore of time.
Let not a shallow earthly pool
That noble keel detain;
'Tis bound with precious freight to cross
Th' illimitable main.