Will the fountain of life, now bathed in tears,
Ebb and flow ten weary years?
Will the soul escape the horrible blight
That stalks in prison's gruesome night?
TRUTH.
Trust, weary one, alone in Me;
Living or dead, thou shalt be free
From prison blight and sin's alarms,
While closely nestling in my arms.
GUILT.
Will the absent ones I love the best
'Neath heaven's smile serenely rest?
Will every branch of the family tree
Still bud and bloom till I am free?
TRUTH.
If they lean upon my breast
I will give thy loved ones rest;
If death a single jewel steal
Heaven its presence it shall reveal.
GUILT.
While prayers ascend from sacred fane
Shall penitent tears be shed in vain?
Will Christ ascend to a prison cell
And deign in a convict heart to dwell?
TRUTH.