HELP, Lord, the souls which Thou hast made, The souls to Thee so dear, In prison for the debt unpaid Of sins committed here. Those holy souls, they suffer on, Resign'd in heart and will, Until Thy high behest is done, And justice has its fill. For daily falls, for pardon'd crime, They joy to undergo The shadow of Thy cross sublime, The remnant of Thy woe. Help, Lord, the souls which Thou hast made, The souls to Thee so dear, In prison for the debt unpaid Of sins committed here. Oh, by their patience of delay, Their hope amid their pain, Their sacred zeal to burn away Disfigurement and stain; Oh, by their fire of love, not less In keenness than the flame, Oh, by their very helplessness. Oh, by Thy own great Name, Good Jesu, help! sweet Jesu, aid The souls to Thee most dear, In prison for the debt unpaid Of sins committed here. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UNDER THE SHADE OF THE TREES [MAY 10, 1863] by MARGARET JUNKIN PRESTON POCAHONTAS [JANUARY 5, 1608] by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY TO A THESAURUS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE LAST MAN: SUBTERRANEAN CITY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES ON F----- & S----- by WILLIAM BLAKE VALUES by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 47 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |