1. Within a dark and cheerless hut,
Where haughty spurned to stray,
Where even sunshine paused not long
An old saint knelt to pray.
2. Her ill-clad form was bent with age,
Her crisp hair specked with snow,
Her wrinkled face was upward turned:
Her voice was deep and low.
3. Long she had worn her armor bright;
Oft Satan’s host defied;
Full sixty years she’d faced the brunt,
And still she was not tired.
4. Her faith was stronger than the winds
That rent Lake Galilee;
She laid her crosses at His feet;
His blood her only plea.
5. Before a living God she knelt,
She felt His presence near;
She prayed with all her heart, this saint:
She knew her Lord would hear.
6. Had not she felt His kindly arm
Embrace with father’s care,
And bear her up, she knew not how,
From utter, dire despair?
7. She knew on whom her hopes were built,
To whom her wrongs to tell,
She felt a peace steal o’er her heart,
That told her, all was well.
8. Yes, all is well, oh blessèd saint,
Thou lowly one divine!
God strikes the shackle from dim eyes
And bids the light to shine.
9. Thou strong and mighty one in prayer,
Thou heir to bliss on high—
Cease not thine ardent, heav’nly chant,
Jehovah heeds thy cry.
Source: The Cyber Hymnal #17025
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