Long in the toils of hell she lay

Long in the toils of hell she lay,
(While torture tore her tender frame,)
And meekly sigh'd her life away,
A picture of the bleeding Lamb!
Her eyes with looking upward fail'd,
And sought the rest of endless night
But Christ her Advocate prevail'd,
And stopp'd the spirit in its flight.

When nature's strength and sense were gone.
And death's cold hand had grasp'd his prey,
God held her soul in life unknown,
And re-inspired the breathless clay:
God heard His wresthng people plead
Strong in the faith Himself had given,
Mighty in prayer which wakes the dead,
In prayer which shuts and opens heaven.

Touch'd by the healing hand Divine,
She lives, she lives to praise her Lord:
Jesus, the work and praise be Thine,
Thy name be bless'd, revered, adored!
Thou hast Thy gracious word fulfilPd,
And saved her in her last distress;
The promise and the prayer is seal'd,
Scal'd on her heart in gospel-peace.

Wherefore with joyful lips and heart,
Thee, Jesus, Lord of life we own,
And sing how great and good Thou art.
How near to help and save Thine own!
To Thee our grateful all we give,
Thine, wholly Thine, resolved to be,
And only for Thy glory live,
And die a sacrifice to Thee.