Cyprian, the father of the orators' plan, a preacher, a priest and godly man;

You have been, by the good Lord sent, on the mission your heart is ever bent.

Passed through trials of life severe, God was good when He sent you here,

Right in the midst of a sweltering gang of sinners, corrupt on every hand.

I, for one, have watched you keen, and from you haven't an evil deed seen;

All has been so easy to see that your whole soul's bent on setting us free—

Not from earthly, bodily pains, but from our evil, and sin, and shame!

Lee was the second choice of name, she christened her son for Heavenly fame.

Each and every day she taught him ever sin to brave, till dear mother she went down into an early grave.

Every day and every hour he tries to keep that august dower, and meet her where there's endless time, in Heaven's pure and holy clime.

Winget came unto this place to save poor sinners by God's own grace;

In eloquence and heartfelt plea he's prayed for us on bended knee;

Nor has his pleading been in vain, because from us he's driven pain.

"God help the prisoner!" is his prayer, while lingering in this prison lair;

"Eternal justice may they have while life's hard struggle they do brave!"

"To God be praise! we see His face. God save the prisoner by Thy grace!"

Susan, his wife and better half, and one of God's own kind,

Upon each bright and sabbath morn she helps the text to find.

She's ever there, in the arm chair, through service and through song,

And with kindly smile she does beguile the prisoners from all wrong.

Nay—let us bow unto you now, thou noble, holy one, and may God speed for all your need for the good that you have done.

Gregory is an ancient name, to you it has been given:

Right down deep in your friendly heart is found the truth of Heaven

Each of us prisoners here confined for truth will e'er contend;

Go, search each heart! and then report if truth we'll not defend.

Onward, onward, upward, upward may your labors ever roll;

Reach out for poor fallen sinner, and your work we'll all extol:

Yet 'tis not too late to labor—God will answer, "Aye, extol!"

"Fair-child" of Heaven's august plan, how comest thou to wed yourself to Man?

A name is nothing but to designate, but, Oh—how often it does consecrate

In language pure and clear as diamond scale, while thou, Fair-child, we, every one, do hail!

Real sympathy is not so strong a band as binds fair woman unto haughty man!

Come, hasten! now thy work be done, 'cause life's short race is almost run!

He whom thou wed so many years ago has been God's servant faithfully to do

In words so full of just and holy writ, that in our chapel we do love to sit.

Love for your duty, kind to all you meet, faithful to your Master's cause and a smile for all you greet.

Do by us as you have done and never do complain, because the work that you have done has not been done in vain!

"Winget" is the name you chose to support the once Fair-child.

In Christian mission go forth God's castles for to build;

Never forget the prisoner close locked in dungeon cell,

Go forth and teach to him The Life of the soul you love so well.

Each hour you spend in Christian work is never thrown away.

The Truth is known! you'll harvests reap in Heaven's golden day!