Keeping my soul in terror, in bondage, and in woe;
Was I to blame? I was, they say; they say 'tis so.
Oh, God! will this deep crimson, aye, black stain
My nervous system always strain!
Will my foul crime forever haunt my brain?
Must I live here in earthly fear, and never, never hear
The sweetest voice to me of all, I've heard not for a year?
Must I this torture feel, year after year?
Live, die in Hell, and yet a Paradise so near?
Wilt Thou, Oh, God! wilt Thou not hear? 'Tis I, 'tis I they all do fear.