816. L. M. Miss Fletcher.
For the Prisoner.
1Father! we pray for those who dwell
Within the prison's gloomy cell!
For those whose souls are bending low
Beneath the weight of guilt and woe.
2Thy love hath kept our thorny way
And saved us from sin's iron sway;
Our brethren in a weaker hour
Have yielded to temptation's power.
3Teach us with humble hearts to feel,
How darkly on our brows the seal
Of guilt might now perchance be set,
Had we the same temptation met.
4Then while the error we would shun,
We still would aid the erring one
To turn from sin's unpitying sway,
To virtue's fair and pleasant way.