816. L. M. Miss Fletcher. For the Prisoner.

1 Father! we pray for those who dwell
Within the prison's gloomy cell!
For those whose souls are bending low
Beneath the weight of guilt and woe.

2 Thy love hath kept our thorny way
And saved us from sin's iron sway;
Our brethren in a weaker hour
Have yielded to temptation's power.

3 Teach us with humble hearts to feel,
How darkly on our brows the seal
Of guilt might now perchance be set,
Had we the same temptation met.

4 Then while the error we would shun,
We still would aid the erring one
To turn from sin's unpitying sway,
To virtue's fair and pleasant way.