Lord, from this prison-house that we have built,
This dark abode of pain and misery,
Failure and guilt,
We stretch our hands, we stretch our hands to Thee,
Lord, set us free.
O Lord, Thou knowest all — Thou knowest well
The groping hands, the eyes that would not see,
The feet that fell;
Yet are we fain — are fain to come to Thee,
Lord, set us free.
Bitter the chains that we have borne so long,
The chains of sin we wove so heedlessly;
Lo, Thou art strong,
Out of the deeps we cry — we cry to Thee,
Lord, set us free.