There is a place where thou canst touch the eves
Of blinded men to instant, perfect sight,
There is a place where thou canst say, “Arise!”
To dying captives, bound in chains of might;
There is a place where thou canst reach the store
Of hoarded gold and free it for the Lord;
There is a place—upon some distant shore―
Where thou canst send the worker and the Word;
There is a place where heaven’s resistless power
Responsive moves to thine insistent plea;
There is a place—a silent trusting hour―
Where God Himself descends and fights for thee.
Where is that blessed place — dust thou ask “Where?”
O, soul, it is the secret place of prayer.