I walked a dark and lonesome road one night,
And sharp temptation whispered in my ear,
“You see the fire yonder, burning bright?
Its warmth is sweet—go nearer, have no fear.”
And as I stumbled closer, conscience cried,
Though flesh, corrupted, reveled in the flame.
That dreadful night, the New Man almost died.
Old Adam very nearly won the game.
But by God’s grace, the battle was not o’er
The New Man deep within still strove for breath.
With one last push, he burst out through the door
And fled full-speed that flaming house of death.
Yet even when that day was in the past,
A burning and relentless guilt remained.
The heavy cords of conscience held me fast
And nothing I could do relieved the pain.
For naught could ever heal me but the blood
Poured out by perfect Man for all the world.
And so, at last, on trembling knees I stood
And in a whisper, all my guilt unfurled.
Before the pastor, as if God Himself,
I said aloud what weighed upon my soul.
I knew that Jesus only—no one else—
Could bind my wounds of sin and make me whole.
I felt Christ’s piercèd hand upon my head,
“No fear,” He said, “your sin is put away.”
And at His word, all guilt and terror fled.
The night of sorrow brightened into day.
And now, I kneel again, but not alone.
With all the saints, I taste a holy food,
As Christ bends earthward from his heav’nly throne
To feed us with His Body and His Blood.
And at the rail, great peace washed o’er my soul
As there I glimpsed that blessed feast to come.
And knew that one day, I would reach the goal,
When Christ shall bear my blood-cleansed body home.
