When the brief hours of night have fled.

The mother speaks: "Oh see, my son,
Light breaks upon your dungeon wall!
It is a messenger to thee;
Methinks it is thy Saviour's call.

"Dost thou not feel it on thy soul?
And wilt thou not His call obey?
His blood alone can cleanse from sin,
And wash thy guilty stains away."

"Oh, Mother, yes, I feel His power,
E'en as I see yon gentle ray;
His blessed voice now says 'Thoul't be
In Paradise with me this day.'"

Joy filled this waiting mother's heart;
"Let us to God the glory give."
They knelt in humble, grateful prayer,
For Jesus bade that sinner live.

And Angels hov'ring o'er the scene,
Clapped their glad wings and flew to Heav'n
To strike anew their golden harps,
For peace on earth and sin forgiv'n.

And the rapt seraphs round the throne,
Loud anthems to the Saviour raise;
While cherubims with transport burn,