105. A Good Confession

The chains that have bound me are flung to the
wind.
By the mercy of God the poor slave is set
free;
And the strojg grace of heaven breathes fresh o'er
the mind.
Like the bright winds of summer that gladden
the sea.

There was nought in God's world half so dark or so
vile
As the sin and the bondage that fettered my
soul;
There was nought half so base as the malice and
guile
Of my own sordid passions, or Satan's control.

For years I have borne about hell in my breast;
When I thought of my God it was nothing but
gloom;
Day brought me no pleasure, night gave me no
rest,
There was still the grim shadow of horrible
doom.

It seemed as if nothing less likely could be
Than that light should break in on a dungeon so
deep;
To create a new world were less hard than to free
The slave from his bondage, the soul from its
sleep.

But the word had gone forth, and said, Let there be
light,
And it flashed through my soul like a sharp pass-
ing smart;
One look to my Saviour, and all the dark night.
Like a dream scarce remembered, was gone from
my heart.

I cried out for mercy, and fell on my knees.
And confessed, while my heart with keen sorrow
was wrung;
*Twas the labor of minutes, and years of disease
Fell as fast from my soul as the words from my
tongue.

And now, blest be God and the sweet Lord who died!
No deer on the mountain, no bird in the sky,
No bright wave that leaps on the dark bounding tide,
Is a creature so free or so happy as I.

All hail, then, all hail, to the dear Precious Blood,
That hath worked these sweet wonders of mercy
in me;
May each day countless numbers throng down to its
flood,
And God have His glory, and sinners go free.