As Thy Truth’s convincing clearness Filled our spirits from above, And our stubborn hearts were melted By the fervor of Thy love, O Thy loving heart was moved Us Thy righteous laws to teach, Us to guide, protect and cherish Till Thy heaven we should reach. Without merit we, yet mercy Each returning day doth bless With the tokens of Thy goodness, Pledges of Thy faithfulness. O how surely and securely Dost Thou lead and guard Thine own; O what wonderous grace that mortals May add lustre to Thy throne. In our souls we feel the presence Of Thine eye and heart and hand, As we here on earth as pilgrims Journey toward the Fatherland. O give grace, that on the pathway, Which through trial leads to heaven, Without faltering we may hasten Till to each Thy crown is given. Though our path be set with danger Nothing shall our spirits shake, Winds may rage and roar and whistle, Storms from North and East may break, Waves may roll and leap and thunder On a dark and threatening sea, Thou dost ever watch Thy children, And their strength and peace wilt be.) Before the vessel sailed the Trustees had followed up their request to Spangenberg by requiring the forty Swiss emigrants to promise submission to his authority, and consequently numerous efforts were made to be of service to them. It was disappointing work, in a way, for attempts to give them religious instruction were met with utter indifference, but their material needs were many. There was a great deal of sickness among them, and four died, being buried hastily, and without ceremony. The Moravians themselves were not exempt, several being dangerously ill at times, even Spangenberg was prostrated, from having, he supposed, stayed too long on deck in the night air, tempted thereto by the beauty of a calm night in a southern latitude. But having work to do among the Swiss on the following day, he roused himself, and soon became better. Two of the Moravians were appointed nurses for the sick Swiss, and by the use of the medicine provided by the Trustees, supplemented by unwearying personal attention, they were made as comfortable as possible. Nor were the crew forgotten. From the day when the Moravians helped lift the anchor as they sailed from the coast of Dover, they busied themselves in the work of the ship, always obliging, always helpful, until the sailors came to trust them absolutely, “even with the keys to their lockers.” When the cook was suddenly taken sick they nursed him carefully, and then appointed two of their number to carry wood and water for him until his strength returned, and it is no wonder that such accommodating passengers were well regarded.