Bound hands and fettered feet, midnight and loneliness; Within the inner prison held, in vile duress, Companioned by the bound; Confined to dreary round Of gloomy nights, and still more gloomy days,— For this, how can we praise? Midnight, and still fast bound, with feet in shackling stocks; Within the silent gloom, which never voice unlocks, We lift our hearts to Thee, Where darkness cannot be, And from our helplessness and utter need In praiseful prayer we plead. And lo! the earthquake, the quivering walls are rent, Down thrown by prayer of faith, with trustful praises blent; 'Tis midnight still, around, But loosened and unbound Alone no longer do we praise Thy word, With us, praise all that heard! Sing praise at midnight! Yea, though left without a friend, Uplift thy voice in praise, and God will answer send, His love will succor thee, And, fetterless and free, Thou and those loosed with thee shalt henceforth sing Hosannas to our King!
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