Thou knowest

Has His great reach stretched to its end?

"Oh son of man, can these bones live

In shambles though they stand?"

"The only answer I can propose

Is that Thou knowest, Lord"

Out from the graves, from the mouth of Death itself

Raised into mercy, delivered from all chains

Not one thing stands outside His grasp

Not one of you would be denied

If only you would turn to hear

The kindness of His call

Let no thought enslave you

Let no man dissuade you

Let no chain still bind you

Let no fog still blind you