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| Text: | The Prisoner |
| Author: | Newton |
1 When the poor prisoner, through a grate,
Sees others walk at large,
How does he mourn his lonely state,
And long for a discharge!
2 Thus I, confined in unbelief,
My loss of freedom mourn;
And spend my hours in fruitless grief,
Until my Lord return.
3 The beam of day which pierces through
The gloom in which I dwell,
Only discloses to my view
The horrors of my cell.
4 [Ah! how my pensive spirit faints,
To think of former days,
When I could triumph with the saints,
And join their songs of praise!]
5 Dear Saviour, for thy mercy’s sake,
My strong, my only plea,
These gates and bars in pieces break,
And set the prisoner free.
| Text Information | |
|---|---|
| First Line: | When the poor prisoner, through a grate |
| Title: | The Prisoner |
| Author: | Newton |
| Meter: | C. M. |
| Language: | English |
| Publication Date: | 1844 |
| Topic: | Tribulation and Inconstancy of Mind |