He lays his old, rebellious weapons down,

 He casts his trailing colors in the dust;

He supplicates the scepter, throne, and crown

 He once despised, with penitential trust.

He now abandons that which he had sought;

 His prayer—”Lord, what wilt Thou have me do?”

With holy purpose and contrition fraught;

 Has higher aims and nobler ends in view.

“Behold he prayeth”—suing for relief,

 Regards his former course with poignant grief.

He pleads for favor like a loyal soul,

 He seeks to please Him whom he once did wrong;

His needle’s instinct seeks its proper pole,

 And thitherward he turns with hope and song.

Behold the man is changed! What can he do,

 But follow his convictions to the end?

He has become in Christ a creature new,

 And in Him found a constant, faithful Friend,

“Behold he prayeth,”—trusting in God’s grace,

 He enters now his upward, pilgrim race.